


Hold On Tightly

by iamhollsteintrash



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5926063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamhollsteintrash/pseuds/iamhollsteintrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ali Krieger is a best-selling author, and Ashlyn Harris is a national team goalkeeper who happened to read her book. Can Ali keep her inner fangirl in past the first meeting?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, we are going on an adventure! I've got 5 chapters of this written, so no orphaning this any time in the near future. Someone asked me why I never write AH having a soccer career instead of AK, so that's what I did. I hope you like it :)

Ali Krieger is on her fifth cup of coffee as the clock approaches noon, scrolling through Twitter, Word document open and blank directly in front of her.

  
She has a word count to meet, a deadline and a meeting with her publisher in the coming week, but instead she’s answering questions about her most recent novel with her followers.

  
Ali published a novel just about one year ago, a journey of  _ self-discovery _ for a young woman in her mid-twenties, moving to an  _ unnamed  _ Big City and falling in love with a Man and having to decide whether her Big Fashion Job was worth more to her than the True Love she thought she found. In the end, she chooses the job (obviously) and the girl three desks over – who brought her coffee every morning and listened to her cry over the Man after a few too many drinks, pulled her close and kissed her.

  
It’s hardly the novel that her community (not-straight-females) deserves when she thinks about it, but the inclusion of a Queer Character and being a Female Author got her read and reviewed by _AfterEllen_ and then mentioned by John Green on Twitter and then reviewed by _The New York Times_ – lauded as a “queer twist on _The_ _Devil Wears Prada_.” She was on the bestseller list when it first came out, and Ali went on a book tour, trekking across the country to talk to rooms full of LGBTQ+ women of every age between thirteen and sixty about how to be what she _is_ , which is apparently a tremendously successful Queer Woman with more money than she knows what to do with and her face on signs in every Barnes and Noble she enters, her book propped up on tables labeled “Summer Reads!” 

  
The problem with success is that eventually, people start to want more. It only took two months for rumors of a sequel to start spinning, before Ali’s publisher even contacted her. And somehow she ended up promising four chapters of a twelve-chapter book within a year of the first book’s publication. And hopefully another four six months after that, and the final four six months after that.

  
And Ali is almost done – she does intend to finish before the end of the following week, even if it means she needs to park on her brother Kyle’s couch and not go outside for three days, drinking coffee and eating popcorn that he replenishes every few hours. She works best under pressure.

  
And yet, at almost noon on a Sunday in June, when her tank top is sticking to her back in the summer heat, Ali fires off a tweet to her 211,000 followers.

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ Got a Q about Jess or Let Go Lightly? Let me A it! Use #AKQA!! Get creative, I’m procrastinating ;) _

  
She shuffles to the coffeepot, practically feeling her mentions begin to flood as she replenishes her coffee cup, pouring milk and a spoonful of sugar in before grabbing a banana and sitting back down. Of course, there’s some hate in her mentions – there always is, but there’s also some very insightful questions. She scrolls through slowly, favoriting the tweets she’s going to answer. There are some plot questions.

_  
Is Jess a lesbian?? _

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ A lot like me, Jess doesn’t feel like she needs to define her sexuality! You love who you love, she knows gender doesn’t really matter! _

_  
How did Jess know to dump Paul? _

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ When you fall out of love, you know! I’m just glad she had the strength not to string him along. _

_  
How did Alex know that Jess liked her? How did she know to make a move? _

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ When you know, you know. And Alex knew ;) And it all paid off! _

  
There are some personal questions:

_  
What do you do to stay motivated? _

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ That’s why I keep my brother Kyle around when I have tight deadlines! He keeps me healthy and hydrated and dangles rewards in front of me when I’m losing motivation (like fresh coffee!!) _

_  
What’s your favorite summer drink? _

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ I love a nice Mojito!! _

  
There are some  _ very  _ personal questions:

_  
When’s the first time you had sex with a girl? _

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ When I was 19 in college, thankfully with my first girlfriend! Still a great friend to this day. Hi Liz!! _

_  
Have you ever dated a guy??? Do you think you’ll marry a man or a woman?? _

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ I think I’ll marry whoever I fall in love with! _

  
And then there’s a question that Ali never expected to see.

_  
Did you see the USWNT video with @Ashlyn_Harris reading your book at camp? _

  
Ali’s stomach drops and she nearly chokes on her coffee. Ashlyn Harris, a women’s soccer goalkeeper known just as much for her behavior off the field as her performance on the field, reading  _ her book  _ on a beach in Florida. One of women’s soccer’s  _ tough guys,  _ Ashlyn’s covered in tattoos and has been carded a couple too many times when she doesn’t like calls on her defenders. But she’s a total softie off the field, known for work with charities, namely with former addicts and people suffering from depression. Ali, when asked about her hobbies on the book tour, mentioned women’s soccer often, and gets a few links sent to her about the Women’s National Team and the National Women’s Soccer League a week. The Women’s World Cup kicks off a few weeks, and she knows the Women’s National Team is in residency in Carson, training for the tournament. Having  _ Ashlyn Harris  _ read  _ Ali’s  _ book puts stars in her eyes.

  
A few times she types out tweets that amount to  _ AAAHHH  _ but she gathers herself enough to write a real answer.

  
@AlexBKrieger:  _ Well, @Ashlyn_Harris, I’d love to know what you think when you’re done ;) _

  
Ali decides to end he Q&A there, hoping that maybe Ashlyn drops her a follow if she sees her in her mentions. One of the many perks of being quasi-famous, or even a blip on the fame  _ radar  _ if nothing else, is getting verified on Twitter, which means her tweet will show up in the mentions Ashlyn’s sees when she first logs on.

  
She finally turns back to her open Word document, the words coming a little bit easier with someone she maybe idolizes just a little bit reading it. She shuts her laptop when her phone rings with a call from Liz, her childhood best friend through college and manager following the publication of  _ Let Go Lightly _ .

  
“You know you’re supposed to run these Q and As past me before you do them, right?”

  
“I’m  _ bored.  _ This is  _ boring _ .”

  
“Is Kyle home?”

  
“He’s at work. I want to go for a run but I promised myself I sequester myself until I finish the fourth chapter.”

  
“You have to finish by the end of the week or Paul is going to kill you, you know that right?”

  
“It took me three years to write the first book. You can’t rush perfection.”

  
“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Liz says, sighing into the phone. Ali can hear the sound of her typing in the background. “It just needs to be done. The editor will do the rest.”

  
“What are you doing?”

  
“My job, and you have to do yours,” Liz sighs again.

  
“Okay, fine. Fine. Talk to you soon.”

  
Ali hangs up without getting a response from Liz, reopening her laptop and watching the video the USWNT uploaded from their camp in Carson.

  
Sure enough, at the three-minute mark, there’s a shot of Ashlyn underscore Harris reading  _ Let Go Lightly _ , the words  _ By Ali Krieger  _ covered by her very long ring and pinkie fingers, while she eats breakfast with her teammates. She looks up into the camera, grinning, and shoots a thumbs up. Ali’s heart nearly melts.

\--

  
Ali almost forgets about her tweet until later, when she’s eating dinner with Kyle and her phone dings.

_  
@Ashlyn_Harris followed you back! _

_  
@Ashlyn_Harris liked your tweet:  _ @AlexBKrieger: Well, @Ashlyn_Harris, I’d love to know what you think ;)

_  
@Ashlyn_Harris replied to your tweet! _

  
Ali slides her phone open to read the tweet that Ashlyn sent back.

  
@Ashlyn_Harris:  _ I’m loving it so far, @AlexBKrieger! Might finish it in 2 days, a new record! _

  
Ali claps her hand over her mouth. Kyle looks up from his plate, placing his fork down.

  
“An exciting breakthrough?”

  
“No, no,” Ali says, locking her phone again and placing it face down, knowing that her mentions are going to flood momentarily. “Just a cute girl, answering my tweet.”

  
“Ooh,” Kyle coos. “Tell me about her. A crazed fangirl? You’re not supposed to fuck those.”

  
“ _ Stop!! _ ” Ali replies, feeling herself turn red. “Someone tweeted me that one of the players on the Women’s National Team was reading Let Go Lightly, so I tweeted at her for her opinion. And then she tweeted back that she likes it!”

  
“How local is she?”

  
Ali shrugs. “They’re training for the Women’s World Cup in Carson right now.”

  
“That’s like… half an hour from here, Alex. You should see if she wants to meet up and talk about it. Tweet about it. Some cross-brand promotion.”

  
“Everyone who’s endorsed me and this book is gay,” Ali says quietly. “I don’t think she’s out, she might not even be gay. Appearing with me basically means coming out and I don’t want to put that on her.”

  
“What’s she look like?”

  
Ali navigates through Instagram quickly to Ashlyn’s profile, which shows her, tattoos and all, drinking coffee in a flannel shirt. She turns her phone to Kyle, who squints at it for a second.

  
“Honey, she’s gay. Your type too. Did you answer her yet?”

  
“What am I supposed to say? To her saying she likes it?”

  
Kyle tugs the phone from Ali’s hand, typing out a quick answer, speaking it as he writes.

  
“Let’s meet up when you’re done, if you get a break from training for the WC! Would love to hear your thoughts. Winky face.”

  
“Are you sending that publicly or privately?”

  
“Publicly, duh. Gotta give your fans what they want.”

  
“Ugh,” Ali says, hiding behind her hand. “Go ahead.”

  
“Sent,” Kyle says, grinning as he returns Ali’s phone. “You can thank me at your wedding.”

  
Ali rolls her eyes, returning to her dinner.

  
That night, while Ali watches Netflix with Kyle, ignoring her computer screaming at her to finish  _ something,  _ her phone buzzes three times.

_  
@Ashlyn_Harris liked your tweet! _

  
@Ashlyn_Harris:  _ Sounds like a deal, @AlexBKrieger! _

_  
@Ashlyn_Harris sent you a message! _

  
And there it is, a single direct message. Ali hesitates to open it, mostly because she feels like a fangirl out of her element. But she does.

_  
Hey! I want you to know that I am serious, I do love Let Go Lightly, I’m getting all the gals at camp to read it. And I would absolutely love to grab coffee or something and talk about what you’ve got in the works. And to pick your brain for some insider info ;) _

  
Ali chews on the inside of her cheek, contemplating an answer.

_  
Glad you like it! It really means a lot, for real. When are your days off? I’m free… most of the time and I’m sure I can work around you. _

  
She sends it off before reconsidering her wording.

_  
Work around your schedule, I mean. _

  
Ashlyn takes her sweet time answering, or so it seems. But when she does, Ali’s heart skips a beat.

_  
What a slip ;) But anyway. We get Saturdays off and a couple of the gals and I usually go surfing on the coast. If you meet me out by Manhattan Beach this Saturday, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee. _

_  
Perfect!! _

  
Ali picks up her laptop when she’s sure Ashlyn isn’t going to answer again, heading into Kyle’s spare bedroom, where she’s being sequestered until her deadline is met.

  
She’s able to sit down and write more now, with something to look forward to, better than she had been for months.

\--

Ali wakes up the next morning when it’s closer to the afternoon, her laptop open but dead, as she fell asleep writing around 2AM. Her phone is what wakes her up, vibrating incessantly on the mattress beside her. When she looks, it’s all texts from Liz and Kyle and Twitter notifications. She checks the texts from Kyle first.

_  
Your girl followed me on Twitter last night!! _

_  
And followed you on Instagram??? _

_  
Did you hit it off without telling me?? I expect updates!! _

_  
I’m at work until 5, but I’m bringing home dinner and then you’re going to spill! _

  
Ali rolls her eyes, actively choosing to ignore his texts and moving on to Liz, saving what makes her the most nervous for last.

_  
So you and this Ashlyn Harris? Meeting for coffee? Do I need to call her people or can you figure this out on your own? _

_  
Please make sure you’ve got the chapters done before you get swept up in another girl _

_  
Both of our paychecks depend on it! _

  
Ali fires back a quick text back.

_  
Almost done, I’ll be ready for Friday, I promise!! _

  
Then she checks Instagram.

_  
@Ashlyn_Harris24 followed you back! _

_  
@Ashlyn_Harris24 liked 30 of your pictures! _

  
Ali furrows her eyebrows, sure she can’t be reading it right. But, scrolling through her notifications, there Ashlyn is, liking about half the pictures Ali has posted in the last six months – including a few with Kyle, five from the book tour, and a few  _ too many  _ gratuitous selfies.

  
Of course, Ali already follows her, and after thumbing through her Instagram profile of heavily filtered and sort of ridiculous (but still cute) pictures, she goes on a similar liking spree, going after the pictures she had missed in regular Instagram browsing over the course of the year. A few cute selfies, a couple of game day pictures, and some quick workout videos Ali loops a few too many times.

  
And then she checks Twitter. And there’s Ashlyn. Tweets and Direct Messages, from around 3AM the night before.

  
@Ashlyn_Harris:  _ I just finished @AlexBKrieger’s book!! Have you guys read it?? What do you think?? _

  
@Ashlyn_Harris:  _ Do you think she’ll give me a sneak peek at the sequel when we meet up? I’ll give her some keeping tips in return… _

  
@Ashlyn_Harris:  _ At the risk of sounding thirsty… I may have just gone on a wild liking spree of AK’s Instagram. But can you blame me?? _

  
Ali turns red, even just at reading through the screen. Maybe Ashlyn is always this brash, but she’s always been a celebrity – just out of reach and somewhat adored from a distance. Now that she is the focus of her attention, it feels like schoolgirl flirting. Then there’s the Direct Messages.

_  
So I just finished your book. And I might be going out for a couple of drinks because we don’t practice until tomorrow afternoon. But I want you to know that it’s one of the best books I’ve read in a long while. _

  
Half an hour later.

_  
And you know, I’m so glad there’s going to be a sequel. You’re really gifted, you know. Some people get sequels and don’t deserve them. You definitely do. _

  
And half an hour after that.

__  
I hope it’s not weird that I just went through your profile, it’s kind of how I judge character. You can tell a lot by somebody’s Instagram. I can mostly tell that you’re cute. And your brother’s dog is cute. And you like to take selfies with crowds. Cute selfies with crowds. Even if they’re just of the top   
of your head. 

  
And then this morning.

_  
Yikes! I’m so sorry if I overstepped last night, last time I drink and tweet. Hope this isn’t weird or anything. It feels kind of weird. I did mean what I said about you being gifted. Hope you’ll still meet me for coffee on Saturday! _

  
Ali hesitates, typing out her response a few times before actually sending it.

_  
Oh stop (Don’t stop)!! Feel free to shower me with more praise, I’m flattered, but I feel like I’ve got some ground to make up!! Looking forward to Saturday more and more, but I might show up with a list of the best saves you’ve ever made ;) _

  
Ali bites her lip after she presses send, scrolling through her mentions to favorite the many flattering things Ashlyn’s said, and the occasional fan tweet of  _ Do you have a crush on @AlexBKrieger?? _

  
She knows Ashlyn’s practicing and won’t see her response, and she’s relieved when the words for the middle of her fourth chapter come easy for the next few hours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali and Ashlyn meet, and Ali has to try to pretend she's not unreasonably excited.

The rest of the week, Ali’s head is not dreading the meeting with her publisher, but excited for the coffee shop in Manhattan Beach.

  
Ali has always made it a point not to check Twitter, but when she’s waiting for Ashlyn’s responses, she finds herself timing how often she refreshes her feed. She can’t quite get a handle on how Ashlyn’s practice schedule works, mostly because she’s pretty sure it changes every day. But when Ashlyn can answer, she seems more interested in talking about Ali than talking about herself, curious about the crunch that Ali’s under.

_  
So, you have to send four chapters to your publisher and then go meet with them to make sure they like it? _

_  
Exactly. _

_  
What if they don’t like it? _

_  
Usually they’ll send back edits, grammar stuff, continuity issues. But if they really hate it they’ll tell me to scrap it and start over. _

_  
No way!! Has that ever happened to you before? _

_  
Thankfully, no. But there’s a first time for everything. _

_  
Please!! I doubt it. _

  
Ali’s getting sick of checking Twitter by Tuesday, but refrains from asking for Ashlyn’s number for fear of coming off as creepy. But on Wednesday, thankfully, she gets what she’s praying for in a DM from Ashlyn.

_  
Now, I don’t usually give this out to fans… but do you want my number? ;) _

_  
Would you believe me if I told you how hard I just rolled my eyes? _

_  
I mean, if you don’t want it… _

  
But she does, and Ali can almost not believe she’s got a contact in her phone with the name  _ Ashlyn Harris.  _ Kyle’s patted her on the back more than once for maintaining her fangirling, but she can’t help but gush to him over dinner that night.

  
“Can you believe it? She gave me her number! Just… like that and out of the blue, I didn’t even ask.  _ She _ was thinking about it and then reached out and asked me.”

  
“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Kyle replies, smirking over his glass of water. Ali can feel how hot her cheeks get and looks down at her plate.

  
“I don’t got it _bad,_ I don’t got it anything, she’s just… really nice. And friendly and, like, cool to talk to. And it’s not like she’s not a fan of me!”

  
“I didn’t say she wasn’t!” Kyle exclaims. “Who knows, maybe she’s gushing to her brother about how nice and sweet you are. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  
“You’re a pain in the ass,” Ali replies, rolling her eyes.

  
Ali and Ashlyn don’t actually talk all that much on Thursday, mostly because Ashlyn is in a full day of practice and Ali has given her phone to Liz as she puts the finishing touches on the first four chapters of her manuscript. But after sending an email to her publisher with the four chapters attached right at the end of the business day, and after Ali takes a long nap, a weight off her shoulders she didn’t even know was there, she gets her phone back with a text that lights up her day.

_  
I know you’re sequestered and I’m sure you’ll be going to bed early tonight, but I wanted to wish you luck for tomorrow :) I hope it goes well and I can’t wait to hear all about it on Saturday. Good luck!!!! _

  
She replies, typing it out three times before sending it, as has become her habit.

_  
Thank you! I’ll give you all the deets when I see you. Speaking of, after tomorrow we have to figure out where I’m meeting you! I don’t drink bad coffee so… high expectations. _

  
Ashlyn’s response is quick.

_  
Nothing but the best for my favorite author ;) Now get some rest! Big day tomorrow!! _

  
Of course Ali doesn’t  _ actually  _ sleep. She watches three movies with Kyle, eating handful after handful of popcorn as he dozes beside her. At 2AM, he jolts awake when Ali turns the TV off, rising to stretch before heading to bed.

  
“What time’s your meeting tomorrow?” he says, his voice raspy with sleep as he rubs his eyes.

  
“One.”

  
“Do you want to get breakfast or something?”  
  


Ali sighs deeply, trying to exhale some of the stress from her system. “That’d be nice.”

  
Kyle rises, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug.

  
“You’ve got this, don’t worry. And just think about who’s on the other side of it.”

  
Ali rolls her eyes, pushing from him. “Shut  _ up. _ ”

  
He laughs. “Not my fault you have a date with destiny!”

  
“Goodnight!” Ali says, spinning on her heel to go into the bedroom.

\--

In the end, it’s much less stressful than she expected. Maybe it’s because it’s her second book and the ink is already dry on her contract, unlike when she was pitching to book to publisher after publisher in New York initially.

 

When she leaves, falling into step with Liz after basically having her ego stroked for an hour, Liz laughs at the nerves she had going in.

 

“Do you feel better?”   
  


“I’ll feel better when this whole thing is finished,” Ali laughs, folding herself into the car.

 

She sends Kyle and Ashlyn the same text.

 

_ It went great! Going to go home and get some sleep.  _

 

She adds an extra sentence to Ashlyn’s text. 

 

_ I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. How’s 10? _

 

And the last thing she sees, after going home, getting comfortable, and falling asleep, is a reply from Ashlyn. 

 

_ So happy for you. 10 is perfect. Can’t wait to see you either.  _

 

\--

 

The day of, Ali wakes up at 9:45, fifteen minutes before they’re supposed to meet. When she charges into the living room, Kyle looks up at her expectantly. 

  
"Good morning sunshine."  
  


“You didn’t wake me up.”   
  


“You were tired!”

  
“But you didn’t wake me up,” Ali says, storming back into her room to change and put her makeup on, grateful she laid her clothes out the night before. “And now I’m late.”  
  


“But you’re well rested!” Kyle replies when Ali returns, grabbing her keys off the counter and slinging her bag over her shoulder.   
  


“But I’m late!” she yells, closing the door behind her.   
  


Ali calls in the car, realizing after she’s dialed that it’s the first time she’s going to actually  _ speak  _ to Ashlyn outside of just text messages and tweets. And her stomach flips when Ashlyn picks up, tucking her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she pulls away from Kyle’s house and into traffic.

  
“Hey, what’s up?”

  
Ali swallows hard, mostly because Ali’s heard that voice before, in post game interviews and videos off the pitch, soft and with that lilting accent, but it’s never been directed at  _ her  _ and yet, here she is, picking up the phone like they’ve been friends forever. Wherever Ashlyn is, it’s busy and loud, and Ashlyn is all but yelling.

  
“I just… I just wanted to let you know that I’m running late.”

  
“Oh, no worries. It’s all good.”

  
“I’m really sorry I just woke up kind of late and there’s traffic…”

  
“Ali, relax. It’s good! How do you take your coffee?”

  
“What?”

  
“How do you take your coffee?” Ashlyn replies, laughing.

  
“Um, with milk and one sugar.”

  
“Coming up. Meet me at the end of the pier?”

  
“You really don’t have to do that.”

  
“You’re coming into my second home off a very stressful week. Relax. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”  
  


“Okay.”

  
“So I’ll see you in…?”

  
“Half an hour, probably.”

  
“Perfect. Can’t wait.” 

  
Ashlyn hangs up first, and Ali releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her hands are shaking when she parks blocks and blocks away from the beach. She doesn’t bother to try and park near the pier, knowing full well that on a Saturday in May there won’t be anywhere legal to park.

  
She’s three blocks from the pier, walking as fast as she can but worrying about breaking a sweat. She wipes her sunglasses off on her t-shirt as she gets closer, trying to figure out all the ways it could go wrong before she gets there.  
  


Ali spots Ashlyn first, leaning against the railing of the pier, sunglasses on, snapback on backwards, looking in the wrong direction for her, two cups of coffee resting on the wooden railing in front of her. She’s gorgeous, as gorgeous as Ali expected and more, cool and collected in board shorts and a t-shirt compared to Ali’s shaking, sweating hands. But when Ashlyn turns, catching Ali’s eye (through her sunglasses at least), the lopsided grin that spreads across her face puts all of Ali’s nerves at ease. She picks up both cups, all but sprinting towards her to meet her halfway.

  
“Ali? God I hope you’re Ali or you’re about to get a cup of free coffee,” Ashlyn says, laughing as she holds one coffee cup out.

  
“I am definitely Ali,” Ali responds, taking the coffee from Ashlyn’s hand and extending her free one to shake Ashlyn’s hand. Ashlyn stares at it for a second, and Ali fears she’s made a terrible mistake, before Ashlyn takes it, tugging it, and pulling Ali into a hug, patting Ali’s back with her free hand as she carefully avoids spilling the coffee.

  
“I’m sorry, I’m not really a handshake type of girl.”

  
“Completely okay,” Ali replies, trying to keep her heart out of her throat. “It’s nice to actually meet you!”

  
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Ashlyn says, that lopsided grin cracking across her face. “I’m so happy you wanted to meet with me!”

  
“Please, why wouldn’t I?”

  
“You’re too much,” Ashlyn laughs. “Do you want to go find somewhere to sit? The rest of the girls I came out here with are still on the water so we have some time.”

  
“Before…?”

  
“They want to meet you too. I managed to get about half of a twenty-five-person camp to read your book so you’ve got a bit of a fan club.”

  
Ali can feel herself turning red. “Well I’m a fan of them – you – too.”

  
They walk together, early enough in the day that it’s not mobbed on the pier and they can find a bench, before sitting down.

  
“So,” Ashlyn says, pulling her sunglasses off. Her eyes are  _ beautiful  _ and Ali has to suppress every part of her that wants to blurt that out.  “Tell me about your meeting. I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday. I want to hear everything.”

  
“It was good!” Ali replies. “They obviously didn’t have time to go through the entire thing, but my editor said he browsed it and liked what I had going so far.”

  
“And that is…?”  Ashlyn says, eyebrows raised, clearly knowing she’s pushing her luck.

  
“See if I told you that I’d have to kill you,” Ali says, smirking as she pulls the top off her coffee before taking a sip. It’s perfect – milk and one sugar. Ashlyn must know what “light and sweet” means, even when it’s coded.

  
“Not even a hint?” Ashlyn laughs, voice pleading. “I bought you a drink and everything!”

  
“Not for a girl I just met.”

  
“Not even a national hero?”

  
Ali rolls her eyes hard, biting back a grin, and Ashlyn gasps. “Just wait until I tell all of our Twitter followers that you’re refusing to give me _ anything.  _ They’re going to be so mad.”   
  


“If I tell you I have to tell the whole class,” Ali sighs. “And then I’d get in a lot of trouble.”

  
“Well I definitely wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” Ashlyn says, her voice low. Ali’s stomach flips and she swallows hard, especially when Ashlyn smirks.

  
“Do you flirt with all your favorite authors?”

  
Ashlyn turns red, clearing her throat before regaining her composure.

  
“Only the cute ones.”

  
“Well I’m flattered,” Ali says, before sighing. “I want to tell you things, but so much changes between the beginning and the end that I don’t want to give you anything to look for before changing it. It’d be like… if you told me the roster before Jill actually decided on it because of what it  _ looked like. _ ”

  
Ashlyn sucks a breath through gritted teeth. “That makes sense I guess. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

  
“I’m sorry for spoiling your day off of camp,” Ali laughs. “If you were planning to use it to get to me.”

  
“Not at all!” Ashlyn replies, stretching out her legs as she sips her coffee. “Not at all. I’m just excited you’re here. And I’m excited to get a day off from camp. But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

  
“Is it that bad?”

  
“Not  _ that bad. _ But it’s not pleasant. Lots of ice baths at the end of the day. I try to sleep late whenever I can. And I kind of try to not do anything risky so I don’t get hurt between now and the end of the month.”

  
“Besides surfing, that it,” Ali says, gesturing towards the waves.

  
“Surfing isn’t dangerous when you’ve been doing it since you’re a kid,” Ashlyn replies, laughing. “I’m probably safer on a surfboard than I am on my own two feet. Have you ever surfed?”

  
“I can’t say I have. I grew up in Virginia, so I never really had much of an opportunity.”

  
“That’s a bummer. We’ll have to get you out there sometime,” Ashlyn says, staring out towards the water.   
  


“If you can find me a teacher!”   
  


Ashlyn smirks, gesturing at herself. “You’re looking at her!”

  
“Oh come on. You’re kidding.”

  
“I’m serious! Gentle hands and a soft voice go a long way.”

  
“And you’ve got gentle hands and a soft voice?”

  
“I’ve been doing this forever. I grew up in-”

  
“Florida,” Ali says, before she can catch herself.

  
Ashlyn nearly doubles over laughing. “Right. Exactly. Sometimes I forget my whole life story is out there on the Internet. Googling me yields a lot more than googling you.”

  
“You forget I’m also an actual  _ fan  _ of your team.”

  
“So you watched that 23 Stories thing?”

  
“You mean the one where you slapped a guy with a fish?”

  
“That very one.”

  
“Yeah I mean, I watched all 23 and yours just stood out,” Ali lies, turning red for the millionth time, trying to cover for herself.

  
“Oh so you didn’t see mine go up and click it first? I won’t lie, I’m a little disappointed,” Ashlyn says, a sly smirk across her face.

  
Ali laughs. “In the future, I’ll be sure to check your videos out first.”

  
“Good.”

  
Ashlyn is smug, and as much as it probably  _ should  _ annoy Ali, it doesn’t. In fact, it’s almost nicer knowing that Ashlyn is just as witty and quick as she seems on camera. Ashlyn’s phone buzzes and she pulls it from her pocket, biting her lip as she reads a text.

  
“I don’t want to overwhelm you at all. But do you mind if Tobin and Kelley join us? They’re off the water and packed our stuff up and want to meet you.”

  
“Did they read the book too?”

  
“They did,” Ashlyn says. “They wanted to meet you with me but like I said I don’t want to overwhelm you. But they want to get lunch.”

  
“Lunch?” Ali exclaims, trying and failing to hold her excitement back. “Yes, lunch is good!”  
  


“You sure? I don’t want to take up too much of your day.”

  
“Please,” Ali replies, flattening her hands on her thighs. “This is, like,  _ the  _ best way to spend my day.”

  
“Not everyone gets to hang out with her favorite athlete all day. I guess you are lucky.”

  
“You’re right, I can’t wait to meet Kelley O’Hara,” Ali responds, rising with a smirk.

  
“Watch it,” Ashlyn replies, grinning even as she narrows her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twice in one day, please don't get used to this!!!
> 
> BUT also I hope you like it, tell me your favorite parts and what you think is gonna happen next!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn and Ali join Tobin and Kelley for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should make a note that just for this plot to go where I want it to, I've got AH wearing #1. Sorry if that's, like, yikes for you but so it goes. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

They meet Tobin and Kelley for lunch about a block from the pier. They’re still wet, Kelley’s hair up in a wet bun while Tobin’s got a baseball cap over hers. Ashlyn waves, pointing with one hand at Ali as they enter and meet at the table they’re already sitting at.   
  


Kelley and Tobin both rise and shake Ali’s hand when they get to the table, and Ashlyn claps a hand on Ali’s shoulder.   
  


“This one is just  _ so  _ excited to meet you two,” she says with a smirk. “Big US Soccer fan.”

 

“Big  _ women’s  _ soccer fan,” Ali replies, sticking one finger up and feeling like a complete geek as her face turns red.   
  


“Best way to be,” Kelley says conspiratorially. “Go order, they’ll call your number when it’s ready.”   
  


They go to the counter, Ashlyn leaning right beside the till as Ali orders and pulling her wallet out before Ali can even get to her bag.   
  


“You know, you really don’t have to keep doing this,” Ali says as Ashlyn passes a twenty over the till.   
  


“Like I said. Relax. It’s really okay. You get me next time.”   
  


When they return to the table, their number printed on the ticket Ashlyn’s holding in her palm, Kelley and Tobin are talking quietly to each other, gesturing at something on Kelley’s phone. Ali lets out a deep breath, deciding promptly to get something out of the way before she has lunch with three people she  _ never  _ would have pictured actually spending time with.   
  


“I should tell you guys,” she says, spreading her hands and feeling how fast her heart is racing. “This is absolutely wild. I wouldn’t have expected anything like  _ this  _ ever happening in my entire life. So.”   
  


They laugh, which doesn’t do much to calm Ali’s nerves.   
  


“Does that mean you’re going to come see us up in Canada?” Tobin says, picking at the wrapper for her straw.   
  


“I’ve actually… never been to a National Team game,” Ali says, laughing. “But the Women’s World Cup is, like, lesbian Mecca so I feel like it might be worth my time.”   
  


“Lesbian Mecca?” Ashlyn says, trying not to laugh.   
  


“Have you ever met a lesbian who didn’t like women’s soccer? Who wouldn't jump at the opportunity to go to a game?”   
  


“That’s not a bad point,” Kelley says, nodding along. “But what do you mean you’ve never been to a National Team game?”   
  


“I’ve never been,” Ali replies, shrugging. “It’s like… every time the team was in my area growing up no one would take me. And then you didn’t come near me after the Olympics. And I’ve been on a book tour so none of your friendlies have really lined up with my schedule.”   
  


“We definitely have to fix that,” Ashlyn says. “What are you doing… May 15 th ? Next Friday?”   
  


“Nothing on my schedule. Except maybe seeing a Women’s National Team game?”   
  


Ashlyn laughs. “Good answer. We have a friendly send-off type thing. Before we play our last game in Jersey and head up to Canada. You should come.”   
  


“Can I still get tickets?”   
  


“I can get you tickets,” Ashlyn volunteers a little too quickly before looking down at her hands. Kelley and Tobin smirk at each other, and Ali suddenly feels like she’s missing a part of the joke.   
  


When a voice pipes over the mic, calling Ashlyn and Ali’s number along with Tobin and Kelley’s, Tobin and Ashlyn hop up to get the orders.   
  


“Am I missing something?” Ali asks, lowering her voice. Kelley raises her eyebrows.   
  


“What do you mean?”   
  


“Ashlyn offered to buy me a ticket and you two, like, looked at each other. I just want to make sure there isn’t some joke I’m not in on.”   
  


She knows there’s some defensiveness in her tone, mostly because she’s so nervous if it does turn out to be a joke it will almost be a relief.

  
Kelley senses her frustration, reaching across the table to grab her wrist reassuringly.  
  


“No, no, not at all! We weren’t looking at each other like that at  _ all  _ I promise. It’s honestly just that, like, Ashlyn’s been talking about this and you all week. And she’d kill me if I told you but we think she might have a little bit of a crush.”   
  


“On who? On me?”

 

Kelley gives Ali a pointed glance as Tobin and Ashlyn return. Ashlyn’s laughing as she slides Ali’s meal to her and sits beside her.

  
“So how were the waves after I left?”

  
Tobin shrugs. “Not too bad. Cold though.” She points at Kelley. “And this one is finally able to stay on her board for longer than a couple seconds.”

  
Kelley puffs her chest out. “I’m very proud of that, thank you very much!”

  
“Ali doesn’t know how to surf,” Ashlyn says around a mouthful of food.

  
“Where’d you grow up?” Tobin asks, her voice low and slow.

  
“Virginia. It’s actually where I live full time now, I’m just out here because I needed to get out of my own house before this meeting. So I’ve been staying with my brother.”

  
“Nearby?”

  
“Los Angeles.”

  
“Busy town,” Tobin replies, not even seeming like she’s looking for an answer.

  
“So… Are you excited for the World Cup?”

  
All three of the other girls groan, and Ali covers her mouth. “Did I say something wrong?”

  
“No, no,” Ashlyn replies, resting a hand on Ali’s shoulder. Ali tries to ignore the shivers that run down her spine. “We’ve just been… we’ve been doing the whole interview circuit for the tournament and well.”

  
“If I get asked if I’m excited for the World Cup one more time I’m going to go nuts,” Kelley finishes, grinning.

  
“I’m so sorry.”

  
“No, it’s really fine,” Kelley explains. “It’s just that, like, we’re really not supposed to tell people that we’re  _ not  _ excited because we’re supposed to have this air of confidence. But I don’t know anyone on our team that’s not scared shitless. Do you?”

  
Ashlyn laughs. “I’m not scared.”

  
“You’re a goalkeeper, you’re fucking nuts anyway.”

  
Ashlyn’s grin is lopsided, and when she finally moves her hand from Ali’s shoulder, Ali kind of wishes she’d put it back. 

  
“But really. Nobody wants to hear that the people representing them, at least in America, are afraid or nervous. All anyone wants to know is that,” Ashlyn clears her throat before putting on a heavy interview voice. “We just have to take it one game at a time, but you know, we’re very confident that we’re going to be able to bring home the trophy.”

  
“You’re getting way better at that,” Tobin says with a laugh. “She used to practice what she was going to say to the press in the mirror. And then she’d still mess it up.”

  
“Not all of us are media darlings like Kelley. And not all of us can duck the press like you.”

  
“When I started doing interviews for the book I had to take a three day PR course on what not to say. Don’t curse at the press, don’t ever look surprised about questions, if you refuse to answer something the amount of times you’ll get asked it will be tripled. Stuff like that.”

  
“Yeah sometimes Jill will intersperse stuff like that into presentations,” Kelley says simply. “But the standards for us are only slightly higher than the standards for male athletes.”

  
“I don’t think they really care what we say as long as we look pretty saying it,” Ashlyn laughs.

  
It’s easier to talk to them than Ali expects, falling into a comfortable rhythm over the small trials and tribulations of minor-league fame. After they finish eating and begin to leave, someone stops the three of them, a teenager whose hands are shaking.

  
“Excuse me? Do you play for the US Women’s National Team?”

 

Ashlyn’s face splits into a lopsided grin. “We very much do.”

 

“Would you… mind taking a picture? With me?”

  
“I don’t think we would, would we?” Ashlyn says, looking at Kelley and Tobin, who nod.

  
Ali gets behind the camera, taking a picture of all four of them, the teen in the center. Ashlyn uses the hand that’s not wrapped around the young fan’s shoulders to point at her, as though the teen is the famous one and not the three athletes around her.

  
“It was nice to meet you. Are we going to see you next week in Carson?” Kelley asks. The teen nods. “Perfect. Looking forward to it.”

  
“Does that happen often?” Ali asks, after they’ve left the restaurant.

  
“More often than I thought it would!” Ashlyn says. “I kind of thought no one really watched us but whenever we’re like a week or so out from a match or we get to a new city people stop us.”

  
“Do you think it’ll be worse after the World Cup?”

  
“Well it’s not bad, so I don’t think it will get worse,” Ashlyn says gently. “I’m happy fans feel comfortable talking to us so often. I don’t know if I would have felt that comfortable talking to my heroes. But I think there will be more people.”

  
Kelley and Tobin head in the direction opposite Ali’s car, towards what Ali assumes is the team van. Ali doesn’t want to ask Ashlyn to stay, for fear of making herself seem even more lame than she already has, but luckily Ashlyn stays by her side.

  
“Where are you parked?” Ashlyn asks.

  
“A couple blocks away,” Ali replies sheepishly.

  
“Let me walk you there.”

  
“I don’t want to put you far away from your car, it’s really okay.”

  
“Let me walk you,” Ashlyn says, her voice firm.

  
They walk together somewhat silently, but it’s not awkward. Ali’s pretty sure it’s because in her head, she hears Kelley mentioning Ashlyn’s crush over and over again. Ashlyn clears her throat after about two blocks.

  
“So I was serious, you know. I’d really like to get you tickets for next Friday. The friendly.”

  
“Only if you’re playing,” Ali jokes, grinning at her feet.

  
“Number one always plays,” Ashlyn says, smug about her newly earned number, as they come to a halt in front of Ali’s car.

  
“Well then I’d love to come.”

  
“Consider it done, then. I’ll text you the details but you should just be able to show up to the box office with your ID and get your ticket.”  
  


“Can I bring my brother? He’s become a bit of a fan since you followed him on Instagram.”

  
“He has some really good pictures of this girl I know,” Ashlyn says, flashing a sheepish grin. “But yeah, absolutely.”  

  
“This was really cool,” Ali says softly, leaning against the door of the car.

  
“You’re not getting rid of me until I get the scoop on the next book, you know.”

  
“And you’re not getting those until I get free tickets to the World Cup Final.”

  
“That’s a pretty tall order,” Ashlyn says, laughing and running her hand through her hair.

  
“Well. You need s _ omething  _ to motivate you.”

  
“Shit!” Ashlyn exclaims, and Ali fears she’s done something wrong. “I cannot believe I didn’t tweet about this once. People are probably  _ dying  _ to know what happened.”

  
“It’s not too late!” Ali replies as Ashlyn pulls her phone from her pocket. “Let’s take a picture.”

  
Ashlyn snaps a selfie, with Ali standing on her toes to rest her head on Ashlyn’s shoulder.

  
“Great morning with my favorite author,” Ashlyn says, speaking as she types it out. She adds the two dancing girls emojis before sending the tweet. They take another one, this one cheesing hard into the camera, for Ali to post.

_  
What a day with this one. Remember, you get those spoilers when I get to wear your gold medal!! Good luck in Canada! _

  
“So I’ll see you next week.”

  
“Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get a signed pair of gloves,” Ashlyn says, grinning before pulling Ali into a hug that feels like home.

  
“Text me when you get back.”

  
“You too."

\--

That night, after she’s been home and takes a long shower, Ali checks her phone. First, she’s got a text from Ashlyn.   
  


__ Kelley won’t stop telling everyone that you called the WC Lesbian Mecca. You’re quite a hit!  
  


Ali turns red, turning then to Twitter instead of answering. She raises her eyebrows when she sees the same words more than once.   
  


“Hey Kyle?” she says, tugging a college t-shirt on as she heads into the living room. “What does shipping mean?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali goes to her first National Team game, makes a bet, and gets some necessary advice.

“Al, who’s talking about shipping?” Kyle asks, sitting up on the couch, running his hand through his already messy hair.

“Well Ashlyn and I tweeted pictures of us together, right, because we were together. And now half my mentions are talking about ‘shipping it’ and I want to know what it means.”

“Okay,” Kyle says, letting out a deep breath through his mouth. “So, like, when two people, especially famous people…Which you are now, right?”

“Right. I guess.”

“And Ashlyn is, right?” he says, like he’s explaining colors to a kindergartener.

  
“Right.”

“So when two people are famous and spend some time together… sometimes people will say they ship it. Like relationship it. Like they want you to be in a relationship.”

“So they want… Ashlyn and me… to be in a relationship,” Ali says slowly, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Looks like they’re not the only ones!! Look at how red you’re turning!” Kyle exclaims as Ali buries her face in her hands.

“I’m not turning _red!!_ ”

“Alex, Alex, look,” Kyle says, and as soon as Ali looks up he snaps a picture. “I’m going to tweet this.”

“No fucking way,” Ali says, running over him on the couch, tackling him to wrestle the phone from his hand.

“Hey Ashlyn,” Kyle says, reading aloud as he types around Ali’s maneuvers. “Look at my sister’s face when she got home from lunch! Hashtag fangirl.”

“Do not send that!!” Ali yells.

“Sent!” Kyle says triumphantly. Ali collapses beside him, defeated.

“Just for that I’m not taking you to the friendly in Carson next week.”

“What friendly?” Kyle says, suddenly intrigued.

“Doesn’t matter now, you’re not going,” Ali says smugly.

“She’s getting you tickets?”

  
“She’s getting us tickets,” Ali replies, grinning. “And it’s not a big deal, it’s just a friendly, but it’s still kind of nice that she wants us to go. I think we’re going to be in the friends and family section.”

  
“Are you absolutely dying?” Kyle replies, laughing beside her.

  
“You have no idea. And Kelley and Tobin are so nice. Like so sweet and nice and genuine.”

“I’m so glad you had a good experience with them.”

  
“Kelley did tell me something weird though,” Ali says, staring into her hands.

  
“How weird?”

  
“She said that Ashlyn had been talking about me all week. And that she thinks Ashlyn likes me. So between that and the shipping thing? It’s just a lot really quick.”

  
“Don’t read too much into it,” Kyle replies, reassuringly patting her knee. “Just… you know. Cultivate that friendship. But flirt with her.”  
  
  
"Flirt with her as a friend."

  
"Flirting is harmless," Kyle says simply.   
  
  
Ali groans, checking her phone for the barrage of notifications she’s sure is coming. But instead, there’s just a text from Ashlyn.

  
“Did you not tag me in that tweet?”

  
“I didn’t have time! I had my sister climbing all over me.”

  
Ali opens the text from Ashlyn, almost reluctantly.

_  
You’re very cute when you blush._

\--

They talk all week, maybe flirting just a little bit, but Ali isn’t sure enough to move it forward – to do anything besides add a winking emoji at the end of some of her texts. Kyle's words ring through her head every time she thinks she's reading into it properly.  _Flirting is harmless._ Then, the Thursday before the game, midday, Ali gets a phone call, lighting up when Ashlyn’s information flashes across her screen.  
  
"Hello?”

“Hey! What’s up?” Ashlyn’s voice is a welcome sound to Ali’s ears, and it’s loud behind her, it kind of sounds like the gym.

  
“Not too much,” Ali laughs. “What’s up with you?”

  
“I just wanted to let you know that you’re all set for tomorrow. Two tickets under Ashlyn Harris, bring an ID. I told them Alexandra Krieger, I hope that’s right.”

“That is right. Thank you so much!”

  
Ali can practically hear Ashlyn’s shit eating grin over the phone. “My pleasure.”

  
“I don’t want to interrupt what sounds like very intense training.”

  
“I have a break and I wanted to talk to you,” Ashlyn laughs. “This felt like something to tell you over the phone.”

  
“Well thank you, I’m glad.”

  
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Ashlyn says, not even trying to hide the excitement in her voice.

  
“You’ll see me tomorrow.”

\--

When tomorrow rolls around (and after Ali tries and fails to get Kyle to wear something _not black_ to a damn soccer game), they get to the stadium two hours early. When they get to the stadium, Ali’s got a pit in her stomach she can’t quite explain.

  
“Hi, I’m here to pick up two under Ashlyn Harris,” she says, lowering her voice when someone standing nearby, waiting on line to get in, turns to look at her.

  
“And what’s your name?” the ticket agent says, reaching into a drawer and coming up with an envelope.

  
“Alexandra Krieger? Maybe it’s under Ali or Alex.”

  
“Do you have ID?”

  
Ali presses her driver’s license under the window, which the ticket agent looks at skeptically for a moment before returning it, sliding the envelope under the glass with it.

  
“Where’s…which entrance?”

  
The ticket agent shrugs.

  
“People usually know where they’re going when they get here.”

  
Ali pulls her phone out, handing the envelope of tickets to Kyle, who pulls them out, nodding appreciatively.

  
“Field seats!”

  
Ashlyn picks up on the third ring, the sound of chatter on the bus behind her.

  
“Hey what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing at all!” Ali exclaims. “Am I interrupting anything? I don’t want to interrupt your pregame ritual.”

“Pregame ritual starts thirty minutes out, don’t worry. What’s going on?”

“I’m just not really sure which gate to go in.”

  
“Oh yeah, right! Shit. Um, okay. Just wait outside, right? I’ll have Kelley send Ann.”

  
“Who’s Ann?”

“Her girlfriend, she always gets there early. Just sit tight, okay?”

  
“Okay.”

  
“Okay. I’m really looking forward to seeing you,” Ashlyn says. “And I’m excited for your first game.”

  
“Are you going to win for me?” Ali says, biting her lip and hoping it goes over the right way.

  
Ashlyn pauses, and she answers with almost a whisper, hopefully just to hide from the rest of the bus. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  
“I want to see a clean sheet.”

  
“Consider it done.”

“And if it’s not?”

  
“I’ll buy you a drink tonight after the game. But if I do, you owe me one.”

  
“There are worse people to buy drinks for. Just shower first.”

  
Ashlyn sighs. “If you insist.”

  
When Ali hangs up the phone, she’s turning red, and Kyle’s mouth is hanging open.

  
“Is she flirting with you?”

  
“I think she’s flirting with me,” Ali says, biting her bottom lip. “We’re going out with her tonight after.”

  
“With the rest of the team?”

  
“We haven’t quite… hashed that out yet,” Ali replies, looking at her feet. “Just a bet. You know.”

  
“You’re ridiculous.”

  
Ali’s about to retort, rolling her eyes, when they’re approached by a woman with long dark hair, no older than Ali. The O'Hara jersey she's wearing gives her identity away.

  
“Are you Ali?” she asks.

  
“Are you Ann?”

“I am!” Ann replies, pulling Ali into a hug. “Kelley said you were here for Ashlyn.”

  
“Not _for_ Ashlyn,” Ali replies, turning red. Ann smirks.

“We’re here as _guests_ of Ashlyn,” Kyle says dramatically.

  
“This is my brother, Kyle,” Ali says, as Kyle shakes Ann’s hand.

  
They follow her behind the stands, in through an entrance that’s not clearly marked. When they get their tickets checked, they follow Ann to their seats and Kyle puts his camera down before leaving, on a quest for something to eat.

  
“So,” Ann says, voice gentle. “You guys met through the book, right?”

  
“Right, yeah. It’s my book.”

  
“It’s _your_ book!” Ann exclaims. “Kelley didn’t tell me that! But I figured Ashlyn didn’t really have time for book clubs or anything.”

  
“Yeah I guess being a pro soccer player doesn’t really leave a lot of time for book clubs,” Ali says, bashful.

  
“But Kel is reading it, she seems to like it. She was trying to get me to read it but…”

  
“It’s kind of a beach read,” Ali replies, laughing. “A really gay beach read. Don’t worry, I’m not offended.”

  
Ann turns red, choosing quickly to change the subject as Ali watches people begin to fill into the stadium. “So have you ever been to one of these games before?”

  
“I haven’t! That’s why Ash – Ashlyn  wanted me to come.”

  
“They’re really fun. Especially when someone you know is playing. All the girls are so nice and I’m always happy to see them play, but it’s kind of like an added bonus when Kelley starts.”

  
“Do you think she’s going to start today?”

  
“Who knows. Sometimes she’ll start a bunch of games in a row, sometimes she won’t get a minute for months. I guess it’s different with Ash though, right? Since she starts most of the time?”

  
“Well we haven’t been… friends for that long so I haven’t had the unique joy of agonizing over a lineup.”

  
“Friends,” Ann says slowly. “I see.”

  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ali replies.

“Kelley just made it sound like it was something kind of different. Like… less friendly.”

  
“Everybody keeps talking like that, Kyle and the internet and Kelley.”

  
“Don’t look at the Internet,” Ann says, laughing and resting a hand on Ali’s knee. “Don’t ever look at the Internet.”

  
“I’m learning that.”

  
“Listen, do you want to know what I think?” Ann says, conspiratorially.  

  
“About what?”

  
“Ashlyn, what else?”

  
Ali shrugs. “What do you think?”

  
“I’ve been around her and this team for a while. Ashlyn is really smooth but she’s also really bad at cutting to the chase.”

Ann points at the area separate from the friends and family section. “She could’ve gotten you tickets not in that section, with the general public. But she obviously wanted you here.”

  
“Kelley _did_ say that she wouldn’t stop talking about me. I thought maybe she just wanted to talk about the book.”

  
“I mean, you could be right,” Ann says, laughing. “I’ve just… I’ve known her for a while. She’ll dance around this type of thing until you make the move. Kelley was like that too.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Yeah but we met in college. So she was always, like, down the hall or a couple blocks away. It was a little bit easier for me but I still kissed her first, after three months of waiting for her to kiss me.”

  
“How’d she react to that?”

  
“She had this goofy smile,” Ann says, smiling fondly. “Afterwards she was like ‘I knew you liked me!’ and I swear to God I could’ve killed her.”

  
“That’s still sweet.”

  
“I mean,” Ann laughs, gesturing at herself. “I’m still here so it was endearing enough. But all I’m saying is the girls on that team are bad at asking for what they want off the pitch. So they’ll just drop the heaviest hints they can. You might get stuck making the first move.”

  
When Kyle returns, he clicks with Ann almost immediately, asking her question after question about Kelley and the National Team while Ali stares at the pitch, chewing on her bottom lip.

  
They win, 5-1, a blowout. Ashlyn concedes one goal, on the end Ali’s sitting on, and the way she shakes her head as play resumes almost breaks Ali’s heart. But when it’s over, and they’re all signing autographs, Ann turns to Ali and Kyle, like they just sat through a movie.

  
“So what’d you think?”

  
“It was really cool,” Ali says, growing anxious about how to address their bet in person.  “How long does it take for them to finish with all this stuff?”

“What? The autographs? Usually a little while. But she’ll come stop over here, don’t worry,” Ann replies with a reassuring smile.

“Well _I_ can’t wait to meet her,” Kyle all but yells as Ashlyn gets closer, and Ali bounces on the balls of her feet, waiting.

When Ashlyn finally makes her way over, Kelley at her side, she waves at both Ann and Ali.

“So you guys met up!” she says, leaning over the barricade to hug Ann and then Ali. The only thing Ali notices is that Ashlyn seems _damp,_ which should be expected following 90 minutes of vigorous activity, but still surprising.

“We met up! I didn’t know Ali was the author of that book you two love,” Ann says, laughing. “Now I have to read it!”

“Babe, I told you how good it was,” Kelley replies, hands on her hips. Ashlyn grins, her gloves tucked under her arm.

Kyle finally clears his throat to enter the conversation. “Well I’m Kyle and my sister was so excited about this that I just _had_ to come.”

Ashlyn holds a hand out to shake his, her grin lopsided. “Nice to meet you, Kyle. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And I’m sure you don’t even know the half of it!" 

“Did you guys have fun?” Ashlyn asks, wiping sweat from her forehead and grimacing. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you that shut out. I owe you a drink.”

“You do,” Ali says, smirking. “But it was a very good game. One goal isn’t too bad.”

Ashlyn shifts back and forth on the balls of her feet. “But I might have to take a raincheck on it.”

Ali tries to keep her face from falling, but Ashlyn notices.

“I am so sorry,” she says, her voice heavy with guilt. “It’s just we have a meeting and I don’t know what time we’re going to be done and I don’t want to keep you waiting. I was really looking forward to this, I promise. It’s killing me.”

“When’s the next time you’re free?” Ali asks.

“We have another two weeks of training here. And then we fly to Jersey and then to Canada.”

“And Canada is-”

“A long time.”

“So it’s the next two weeks?”

“We’re off tomorrow and Sunday. I’ll take you for drinks tomorrow night. That way I’ll be actually clean.”

Ali smiles. “Tomorrow night will work.”

“Perfect. Thank you again for coming. So much,” Ashlyn says, her grin crooked and eyes bright. “I really, really appreciate it.”

“Come here, let’s get a picture for Twitter,” Kyle says, pulling Ali’s phone from her back pocket. “We have to give your fans what they want!”

  
He snaps a picture of them, and Ali can tell that Ashlyn’s trying not to touch her too much - seeing as she’s drenched in sweat. Ali types out the tweet quickly.

  
_Look who I ran into at #USvMEX! Thanks for the tickets, @Ashlyn_Harris!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Where do you think things are going? What do you think happens when your crush has a time restraint?
> 
> Hope you're digging it :) x


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn and Ali get drinks and maybe... feel a couple things.

On Saturday, Ashlyn calls while Ali is cooking dinner for Kyle (a part of their bargain for allowing her to stay with him another two weeks). Ali’s back is to her phone, and Kyle gets to it first.

  
“Your friend is calling!” he sings.

  
“Which friend? I have a lot of friends,” Ali replies, laughing and wiping her hands as she turns from the stove.

  
“The pretty one.”

  
“All my friends are pretty,” Ali says, reaching for her phone, which Kyle holds just out of her reach.

  
“The pretty soccer player.”

  
“Ashlyn?”

  
“Ashlyn.”  
  


“Kyle it’s going to go to voicemail, give me my phone!” Ali all but yells, reaching over him and pulling her phone from his hand. And just as she does, it goes to voicemail and she groans.

  
“I have to call her back.”

  
“See if she leaves a voicemail,” Kyle says simply.

  
“She’s not going to leave a voicemail, Kyle, no one leaves voicemails.”

  
“But if she does and you call her back while she does you’re going to end up in a weird phone tag situation. Just give her a minute.”

  
She does, and about a minute later Ali’s phone dings with a voicemail. Ali grins as she holds the phone up to her ear to listen.

  
“Heyyyy Ali, it’s me. Me is Ashlyn, I don’t know if you have other girls calling you and saying it’s them. I just wanted to call and see if we were still on for tonight. I can’t really… drive because I would have to take one of the team vans and if there’s only the two of us… Well, if you want me to bring other people I can bring other people. But if it’s just the two of us – which it definitely doesn’t have to be – I can’t be the only one to take the van. So, yeah. Just calling to ask about boring logistical stuff like time and location and all that. You can call me back or you can text me or tweet me. I’m around!”

  
Ashlyn sounds nervous, talking fast, and she can hear lots of bustling around her. Ali calls back quickly, and Ashlyn picks up on the second ring.

  
“Hey!”

  
“I didn’t catch you during practice again did I?”

  
“No, not at all. I’m wearing recovery pants. They look ridiculous. I’ll snap you a picture. You’re on snapchat right?”

  
“Yep!”  
  


Ali can practically hear Ashlyn’s grin on the other side of the phone. “Perfect. So are we still on tonight? I can’t go crazy, practice restarts tomorrow afternoon. But I can buy you a drink. And buy me a drink.”

  
“So you’re saying I can drink you under the table and you can’t do anything about it?” Ali REPLIES, smirking as she tucks her phone between her cheek and her shoulder.

  
“Don’t test me, Krieger,” Ashlyn all but growls.

  
“Like you’d put your career on the line for that.”  
  


“I’ve practiced hungover before.”

  
“I’d love to see that.”

  
“Keep it up and I’ll have one of my teammates send you a video,” Ashlyn says, her tone joking. “So I’ll see you tonight?”

  
“Do you want me to pick you up? Kyle will probably let me take his car.”

  
“Will you be okay to drive all the way back to LA that late? How about I come to you? I’ll take an Uber.”

  
“All the way from Carson? Let me take one to you,” Ali says, turning the heat on the stove off.

  
“If you insist. If you come to the hotel, there’s a couple bars nearby. You can pick.”

  
“What time do you want me?”

  
Ashlyn pauses and clears her throat, and Ali realizes her word choice may not have been ideal.

  
“Well. It’s five now. It takes like forty-five minutes to get here with traffic?”

  
“Right.”

  
“And I’m sure you need time to get ready. I know I do. How’s eight?”

  
“Eight sounds perfect.”

  
“So I’ll see you at eight.”  
  


“I’ll see you before that, I need a picture of those recovery pants,” Ali says, grinning slyly.

  
“Okay well then I’ll get the joy of your company at eight.”

  
“Perfect.”

  
“See you then, Alex. Ali. Sometimes I get mixed up because of your Twitter handle.”

  
“Alex is okay. My friends call me Alex.”

  
“We’re officially friends now?”

  
“I’d say that,” Ali says, laughing. “I’ll see you at eight. Text me your hotel’s address?”

  
“Of course.”

  
When Ali hangs up, she’s grinning, and Kyle is waiting, resting his chin on his hands.

  
“What’s it like to date a famous soccer player?” he says, grinning.  
  


Ali rolls her eyes, turning back to the stove.

  
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he backpedals. “What’s it like to be friends with one of your favorite soccer players?”

  
“It’s really, really cool. Pretty surreal,” Ali responds. “It’s like… it feels too good to be true, you know? She’s cool.”

  
“It must be pretty cool to get to go to stuff in the friends and family section. You should see if she can snag you a couple for the World Cup.”

  
“A couple?”

  
“One for you and one for me!” Kyle exclaims.

  
“And none for her family, right?”  
  


“Exactly.”

  
“Well we’re going out tonight. I’ll be sure to run that past her.”

  
When Ali checks her phone again, she’s got a Snapchat request and one pending snap from Ashlyn, whose name is surprisingly simple for a professional athlete. The snap is one of her, sitting on the floor of what looks like a hotel room, thumbs up while wearing inflated pants – if you could call them that, they’re more like boots.

  
Ali snaps her back a picture of the outfit she’s laid out to wear, dark jeans she knows hug her curves just right and a tank top with a light cardigan, trying to settle on a caption.  _ This looks okay? _

Ashlyn snaps back quickly, a picture of the toes of the boots.  _ Perfect. _

\--

Ali finds her stomach churning in the Uber over, after turning down Kyle’s offer to drive her three times.

  
“You want me to go all the way to Carson?” her driver says when he sees the destinations she’s put in.

  
“Will you?”

  
“I just think it’ll be expensive, but it’s your wallet,” he says, shrugging and pulling away from the house. “What are you going for?”

  
“Going to see a friend,” Ali says, trying not to be short with him while her stomach turns.

  
“Long trip to make for a friend,” he says simply.

  
“A good friend who’s going on a road trip soon. Might be my last shot to see her.”

  
“Well then I hope it’s worth it,” he says.

  
They don’t speak again, Ali buried in her phone to keep from getting bored. At 7:45, she gets a snap from Ashlyn, of her and of Alex Morgan, and her chest tightens when she sees how bright Ashlyn’s grin is.  _ Can’t wait to see you!  _ With the kissy emoji.

  
Ali snaps back with her most coy grin.

  
When they pull up to the hotel, Ali whistles low at the bill but pays quickly, hopping out of the car and heading into the hotel lobby. She’s barely pressed  send on the  _ I’m here  _ text when she sees Ashlyn all but sprinting – she always seems to be sprinting – across the lobby.

  
“Hey you!” she says, pulling Ali into a hug. “I don’t mean to scare you but if we don’t get out of here soon we’re going to get mobbed. Well, you’re going to get mobbed. I got in a little trouble for not introducing you to anyone else after the game.”

“Am I that much of a hot commodity? All because of the book?”

Ashlyn grins sheepishly. “Yeah, we can go with the book.”

  
“Are you talking me up?” Ali says, elbowing her gently as they fall into step leaving the hotel lobby.

  
“I get asked who I’m texting and calling, and now I’m sure snapping, all the time. Imagine living with, like, 18 sisters and four moms. But they’re also your coworkers.”

  
“And I thought one brother was bad.”

  
“This is like a whole other thing,” Ashlyn says, before stopping on the sidewalk and pointing in both directions. “So we’ve got three dive bars that way and   
one sort of better than a dive bar full of straight guys up that way. I guess it’s more of a sports bar type thing.”

  
“Sports bar type thing sounds good,” Ali says, laughing. “You really get the lay of the land training here for months on end, don’t you?”

  
“I do, we all do,” Ashlyn replies as they head towards the bar. “It’s nice though, this is a pretty alright area. And we get some time off.”

  
“Not a bad deal, if you ask me.”

  
When they get to the bar, Ashlyn takes charge, getting to work haling to bartender as soon as they're settled in.

  
“What do you want to drink?” Ashlyn asks, and Ali shrugs.

  
“Is a beer okay?”

  
“A beer is fine,” Ali says, in awe of how quickly Ashlyn gets the attention of the beautiful bartender and slides her card over the bar, telling her to keep the tab open.

  
“Opening a tab for one drink?” Ali says, laughing.

  
“I like to keep it open… expect the unexpected, you know?” Ashlyn responds, winking. “I like to plan ahead.”

  
Ali should have predicted that one drink didn’t mean one drink, and two hours and three beers a piece later she’s happy she didn’t drive. They’ve talked about what feels like everything – from nicknames (spurred by Ashlyn calling her Alex in conversation and then blushing furiously) to where they live normally (Ali’s Virginia to Ashlyn’s Washington) to their most embarrassing moments in college. Ali feels  _ loose,  _ but not in a bad way, and she doesn’t really mind the way Ashlyn’s inched around the booth they settled in as the night’s gone on, her hand settling on Ali’s knee.

  
“You are really cool to hang out with,” Ashlyn says, after finishing the final dregs of what should be her last beer. “And I really like spending time with you.”

  
“You’re just saying that for spoilers!” Ali says, turning red and knowing full well it’s not true.

  
“No way,” Ashlyn laughs. “But the spoilers would be a plus. Do you want to get out of here?”

  
“Are you propositioning me?” Ali responds, sliding out of the booth and heading towards the door, her walk slightly crooked.

  
“I would  _ never _ .” Ashlyn follows her out, placing a hand on the small of her back to direct her back towards the hotel. “Mostly because my roommate would kill me.”

  
“Who’s your roommate?”  
  


“Alex Morgan, I don’t know if you’ve heard of her,” Ashlyn replies with a smirk.

  
“That’s one person whose bad side I do not want to get on.”

  
“I don’t even know if I’m allowed to bring visitors besides family up, to be honest. Lots of secret documents and plans floating around.”

  
“That’s… probably for the best.”

  
“Probably,” Ashlyn says, her hand still on the small of Ali’s back as they get to the hotel. “Can I see you again before I go?”

  
“You keep asking me that. The answer’s always going to be yes.”

  
“So you like… me? This?”

  
“I do,” Ali says, turning to face Ashlyn head on.

  
“Do you think I’m cute?”

  
“I do,” Ali laughs.

  
“I think you’re cute too.”

  
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  
“Yeah, me too.”

  
Ali waits, trying not to expect anything but expecting it anyway, Ashlyn’s lips pressed against hers – probably soft but firm. Not that she’s been  _ imagining  _ it since Ann mentioned that Ashlyn might like her as more than an author – more than as a friend, even. So she waits, holding eye contact with Ashlyn for what might be a little bit too long before Ashlyn pulls her into yet another hug.

“Tonight was fun. I’ll text you, okay?”

 

“No pictures for our fans today?” Ali says, smirking and reaching for her phone.   
  


“Some nights I’d like to keep just between you and me, I think. Text me when you get home,” Ashlyn replies softly, placing her hand over Ali's for too short a time before patting Ali’s back once and heading back into the hotel.

\--

After another astronomically expensive Uber ride home, Ali snaps Ashlyn from bed, looking coyly at the camera with the covers pulled up to her neck.

_ Home safe and sound!! _

She gets the  _ Ashlyn is typing…  _ notification three times before actually getting a response, a snap of a group of her teammates sitting on the beds in a hotel room.

_ Sleep tight :) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you're still digging it!
> 
> Let me know your favorite parts and what you think is coming!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn prepares for the World Cup, gets some advice from her teammates, and accepts an offer from Ali

They try to see each other before Ashlyn leaves for Jersey, a week out from the group stages of the World Cup. But seeing as she’s gearing up for one of the biggest tournaments in the world, Ashlyn’s training picks up on and off the pitch. At least once a day, Ali can count on a snapchat of Ashlyn from an unflattering angle (well, what would be unflattering for any  _ normal  _ person) of her in a team meeting or a goalkeeper meeting or some type of press function. It takes all of Ali’s self restraint not to like or comment on every picture Ashlyn puts up.

  
And Ashlyn notices, she always does. When she posts something, even if it’s for the whole world to see, she waits and prays for some sort of interaction of Ali. She’s usually satisfied, but Kelley has taken to watching her chew on her lip as she waits.

  
“Has your girl dropped you the L yet?” Kelley says one afternoon, plopping down next to her at lunch after a particularly grueling practice.

  
“What does that even mean?” Ashlyn replies, sipping her water while she refreshes her notifications for the ninth time in the last five minutes.

  
“Has she liked your picture yet? Maybe commented?” Kelley says, nudging her with her elbow. “They say the comment is the true sign she’s interested.”

  
“Shut up,” Ashlyn says, laughing.

  
“Is this really a good idea?” Alex asks, sitting down across from her. “Ali, I mean. If that’s what you’re talking about.”

  
“That’s always what she’s talking about,” Kelley all but sings.

  
“Is what a good idea?” Ashlyn asks, adjusting her watch on her wrist and flipping her phone so the screen faces the table.

  
“Ali. Whatever it is the two of you are doing,” Alex says simply. “You’re always texting her and talking to her and talking about her. You’ve been itching to get away from us whenever you can and the light from your phone keeps me up.”

  
“So?”

  
Alex shrugs. “I just know that if I had started dating Serv right before the World Cup my head would not have been on the pitch. And your head can’t afford to not be on the pitch.”

  
“I can turn this sort of thing off when we’re playing.”

  
“Oh yeah? Is that why you harped on giving up a goal during a  _ friendly  _ more than I’ve ever seen you harp on giving up any goal? Are you going to tell me that’s not because she was there to watch and you were embarrassed?”

  
There’s an edge to Alex’s voice, but that’s just her nature. Ashlyn doesn’t take it personally, but she does take her words to heart.

  
“So what am I supposed to do?”

  
“Do you like her?” Kelley asks.

  
“I obviously like her,” Ashlyn laughs, gesturing at her phone as though they can see the thousands of text messages the two have exchanged since they met.

  
“But does she take your focus off of the game?” Alex counters.  
  
“I mean, I guess she could.”   
  


“Ash,” Alex sighs. “I’m all for puppy love but you can’t lose focus.”

  
“Just be honest with her,” Kelley says. “She’ll get it. She knows this stuff. Just tell her you can’t start dating right now.”

  
“But that I still want her in my life.”

  
“As your platonic, non-flirty friend,” Alex says, her voice firm.

  
“As my platonic, non-flirty friend.”

  
Kelley rolls her eyes. “Good luck with that.”

  
That night, Ashlyn means to tell Ali. She means to tell her every time they text, but then decides to do it in person.

\--

There’s no time, though, and the day before Ashlyn leaves, her text messages are short and her responses are far apart. Later in the night, around ten, Ashlyn calls.

  
“Hey you,” Ali says, putting Ashlyn on speaker while she works on her manuscript.

  
“Hey, how’s everything?” Ashlyn drawls back.

  
“Everything’s good. What are you up to?”

  
“Was just getting ready for travel. Trying to prep myself for jetlag.”

  
“Are you ready? All packed?”  
  


“I guess so,” Ashlyn replies, clearly distracted.

  
“Everything okay?” Ali asks, concerned.

  
“Yeah, just a long trip coming up.”

  
“But a good trip, it’s cool. It’s the World Cup, right? It’s cool. It’ll be fine. You'll be good.”

  
“Yeah, no, you’re right,” Ashlyn replies, laughing. “It’s the World Cup. Fun is not the right word, I don’t think.”

  
“It’ll be… overwhelming, but probably not in a bad way,” Ali says softly.

  
“Yeah. Absolutely. Overwhelming but not in a bad way.”

  
“You know,” Ali says, slowly. “I was thinking about maybe making a trip up to Canada. For a game or two.”

  
“Oh yeah?” Ashlyn says, her tone noticeably brighter. “Which ones?”

  
“Well, I’m not going to buy anything outside the group stages. In case you don’t make it.”

  
Ashlyn pauses, and Ali clears her throat. “That was a joke. I’m sure you’ll make it out of the group stage.”

  
“I know it’s a joke, don’t worry,” Ashlyn responds, her laugh weak. “I try to pretend not to be nervous but. Scared shitless, if you recall.”

  
Ali nods, before realizing Ashlyn can’t see her on the other side of the phone. When she doesn’t get a response, Ashlyn keeps talking, the din in the background getting quieter as she leaves wherever she is.

  
“It’s just that we, like, go into a bubble when we go into major competitions, especially like this one. And when the only people you ever really get to see or interact with are your coaches and teammates, and sometimes an errant fan, it gets kind of overwhelming. And lonely.”

  
“Lonely? Even with all those people around?”

  
“Not lonely in an actually lonely way,” Ashlyn says slowly. “There’s always someone who wants to hang out or talk or whatever. But lonely in just an… isolating way. Our whole lives are dictated by our schedules for practice and games and we can’t really walk around freely because there’s always somewhere new to be.”

  
Ali nods again. “I kind of get what you mean. Probably on a smaller scale, it was like that on the book tour. Flights and hotels and meetings and stuff all the time.”

  
Ashlyn exhales loudly into the phone. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  
Ali can practically picture her, running her hand through her hair, sighing, maybe leaning against the wall in the hallway. She has to stifle thoughts of what she might be wearing. In fact, she has to stifle herself asking what she’s wearing. Ali wonders if it’s sweatpants and a t shirt… maybe a sweatshirt. Maybe she’s wearing a hat.

  
“Alex?” Ashlyn says softly, and Ali realizes she hasn’t answered in a few minutes. “I’m sorry I made you listen to all that. I usually don’t have anyone to talk about this stuff to. I try not to tell my parents about it or they get it in their head that I’m sad and should question my life choices.”

  
“No, no, I’m sorry,” Ali replies. “I was just… thinking. I got distracted.”

  
“Oh yeah?” Ashlyn says, her tone shifting to the questionably flirty tone Ali can recognize even in text messages. “What’d you get distracted by while I was regaling you with my sad story?”

  
“I was thinking about what you were wearing, to be honest,” Ali says, opting to give Ashlyn what she wants instead of hastily changing the subject, like she usually would. “I was trying to get a mental picture… of you.”

  
Ashlyn laughs. “Do you want to really know?”

  
Ali bites her lip, feeling heat in her cheeks.

  
“Kind of.”

  
“Even if it destroys your sexy little mental picture of me?” Ashlyn murmurs.

  
“My picture of you is not as sexy as you think it is,” Ali laughs.

  
“Tell me about your picture, then.”

  
“I’m just kind of picturing you in a t-shirt and shorts. And maybe a hat.”

  
“Well you’re close,” Ashlyn breathes. “I’m wearing a t-shirt. And sweatpants. Nothing too sexy, unfortunately.”

  
“How monochromatic.”

  
“I like wearing black.”

  
“Is that what you sleep in?” Ali says, speaking without thinking.

  
“You want to know what I sleep in?” Ashlyn says, her voice low and Ali is sure she’s imagining the subtext.

  
“No, no,” Ali replies. “I was just… wondering.”

  
“So what are you wearing?”

  
“What?” Ali exclaims.

  
“I’m not just going to tell you what I’m wearing and not ask for the same thing from you,” Ashlyn says, laughing. “If you’re comfortable with telling me, that is.”

  
Ali looks down at herself, in an oversized Penn State t-shirt and gym shorts.

  
“A t-shirt from college and shorts.”

  
“Which college again?”

  
“Penn State,” Ali replies slowly.

  
“Ick, Penn State,” Ashlyn says, and Ali can practically hear her wrinkling her nose. “And I thought we had something.”

  
“Oh yeah? Something?” Ali says.

  
“Something,” Ashlyn muses.

  
“Well, now that we both know how we’re dressed, can I ask you something?”

  
“Always,” Ashlyn replies, her voice at normal volume again.

  
“I don’t want you to get lonely while you’re there,” Ali says slowly.

  
“Oh so you were listening! And not just fantasizing about me.”

  
“Shut up, I’m trying to be nice!”

  
“Okay, okay. Go on.”

  
“I was going to ask if you want to Facetime or Skype or something while you’re away. You know. Whenever you have time, or you’re feeling lonely or weird or separate from the rest of the world. If you want.”

  
“Al,” Ashlyn says, using the nickname for the first time. “That’s really sweet. I just, I have to tell you something.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Ali says, backpedaling immediately. “I don’t want to force you to do anything. I just thought maybe it would help.”

  
“No, no,” Ashlyn says softly. “It’s really, really sweet. I would really, really appreciate that.”

  
“Cool. I can work with your time zones. My schedule is pretty flexible,” Ali says, wondering if Ashlyn can hear her grin.

  
“You’re the best,” Ashlyn replies. “I’m going to hang up now so I can finish packing. I’ll text you.”

  
“I’m looking forward to it,” Ali says, before hanging up.

\--

When Ashlyn hangs up, she heads back into the room.

  
“Did you tell her?” Alex asks, zipping her suitcase and laying her clothes for the next day out on top.

  
“Tell who what?” Ashlyn says, clearing her throat and avoiding Alex’s eyes.

  
“Tell Ali. That you’re not going to be her girlfriend.”

  
“Yet.”  
  


“That you’re not going to be her girlfriend yet,” Alex says, rolling her eyes.

  
“She was so sweet,” Ashlyn sighs. “She wants to facetime when I get lonely.”

  
“No way,” Alex says. “You told her no, right?”

  
“Well.”

  
“Serv and I FaceTime when I get lonely. Kelley and Ann. Pinoe and Sera. That’s, like, one of the most couple-y things to do. Did you set specific times?”

  
“No, no, she said we’d work around her schedule. She said she’s flexible.”

  
“Ashlyn.”

  
“Alex.”

  
“Ashlyn you have to shut this down,” Alex says firmly. “Otherwise she’s going to end up heartbroken. And you are too.”

  
“I hear you,” Ashlyn says, holding up her hands. “I know what you mean. I just… I like her. I like her a lot.”

  
“I get it,” Alex replies. “But maybe just like her when you’ve got a gold medal around your neck. And I have a gold medal around mine. And Abby has a gold medal around hers. And Kelley. And everyone else who’s depending on you and me and all of us to be completely focused.”

  
“I get it,” Ashlyn says, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. “I’ll figure it out.”

  
“Thank you. It’s the best for you,” Alex replies. “And for all of us. And she’ll still be there when we win.”

  
“I know.”

  
When Ashlyn goes to bed that night, she’s got a snap from Ali. She grins when she sees it, tapping it to load as she sets her alarm and gets in bed. When she opens it, her jaw nearly drops.

  
It’s a picture of Ali, from the neck down, in a sports bra and shorts – if you could call them shorts and not just glorified underwear, ending high at the top of her thighs. The caption:  _ In case you were wondering what I sleep in. _

  
Ashlyn smirks, sending back a snap of the dark ceiling, too nervous of being exposed to risk a snap under the covers. She chews her bottom lip for a second, debating a caption.

_  
Thanks for giving me something to dream about. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! What do you think is coming next?? I love all of your comments. xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali tries to make her intentions a little clearer, Ashlyn tries to focus.

“So…” Ali says, while getting coffee with Liz, the heat from her latte burning her palms. “What if I told you I might have a girlfriend soon?”   
  


Liz sighs, not out of exasperation but out of fear of work to come. “I’d need you to tell me who she is.”

  
Ali sips her coffee carefully, burning her tongue nonetheless.  “I’m not sure if she’s actually going to be my girlfriend but I really like her a lot.”

  
“You mean Ashlyn?” Liz says simply, scrolling through her phone. Ali turns red.

  
“Is it that obvious?”

  
“I think you forget that my literal job is to keep tabs on you on social media. All I see is Ali Krieger liked Ashlyn’s photo, Ali Krieger liked Ashlyn’s tweet, yada yada. She’s, like, the only person I ever see you interacting with. Also half of her teammates have followed you in the last two weeks. You’re not making it difficult to pick up on.”

  
“Is it… okay if I do that?” Ali asks quietly, suddenly nervous. She’s not sure why she’s asking permission, but Liz has good advice most of the time, both personally and professionally.

  
“It’s your life, Ali, I just manage it,” Liz replies, shrugging.

  
“Can you just… be my friend for a minute? And not my manager?”

  
Liz laughs, putting her phone down. Sometimes Ali feels like there’s a blurred line between her occupation and their friendship, but when she mentions it, Liz is always able to turn off her manager side.

  
“Yes, okay, I’m sorry,” Liz says, her voice sympathetic. “Tell me everything.”

  
“So,” Ali breathes, fingers toying with the saucer of her coffee cup. “We’ve hung out a couple of times but now she’s in Jersey with the National Team. And then she’s going to Canada for the World Cup and she’s joked about me coming to see her a couple of times and I haven’t actually been able to figure out if she’s serious. And the last time we hung out she told me she thought I was cute. And when we were saying goodbye I thought she was going to kiss me.”

  
“You thought?” Liz replies, eyebrows raised.

  
“I thought! And then she just hugged me. And told me that there’s some moments she wants to keep just between the two of us.”

  
“Yikes.”

  
“Right?” Ali exclaims, taking a sip of her coffee, cooler this time. “And now she’s away and I want to, like, move things along. At least to figure out if there’s something there or if I’m wasting my time.”

  
“You should! She’d probably be into it, if I’ve been reading your social media right. People think you’re together already anyway.”

  
“It’s only been like two weeks,” Ali replies.

  
“So just tell her you like her and you want to be something more. And if she says no then no harm, no foul. And if she says yes you get a hot fuck buddy.”

  
“A hot fuck buddy who’s going to be in Canada for the next month,” Ali replies, rolling her eyes.

  
“That doesn’t mean there aren’t ways around that.”

  
“Ways around what?”

  
“Tell her what you want,” Liz says, almost whispering. “Like… you know.”

  
Ali tilts her head and bites her lip, taking a beat too long to figure out what Liz means.

  
“Alex, tell her you want to fuck her!” Liz exclaims, too loud for the coffee shop.

  
Turning beet red, Ali claps her hand over her mouth. “You mean, like. In a text?”

  
“In a text or a phone call or whatever. Just make sure she knows. And if she’s into it she’ll respond the right way and who knows. Maybe you’ll get yours.”

  
Ali almost asks her what but then realizes, clearing her throat.

  
“How are you so blunt about this?” she all but exclaims.

  
“You’ve always been like this,” Lis replies, grinning. “If someone isn’t blunt about it you won’t think about it and then you’ll miss out. And honestly, Ashlyn is probably thinking about it anyway but trying to respect you.

  
Liz is right, and Ali knows it. From the day she sent Ashlyn the picture of herself, laying in bed and scantily clad, she’s wondered if Ashlyn is thinking the same thing she is – what she  _ feels  _ like under her hands, how she kisses…

  
“Fine, I’ll do it,” Ali says, reaching towards the table for her phone.

  
“Not right now!” Liz exclaims. “Wait until you get home for God’s sake. Try to make it a little bit sexy.”

  
When Ali gets home, she chews on her bottom lip, typing out what she wants to say four times before actually sending it.

_  
So what are you doing tonight? _

  
Ashlyn takes a few minutes to answer, maybe because she’s showering or eating dinner or hanging out with her teammates, but Ali stares at her phone, waiting, until the typing bubble appears.

_  
Probably just hanging out with some of the gals. Maybe I’ll go to bed early. I’m feeling kind of sore and a little bit nervous. What are you up to? Any crazy famous person plans? _

  
Ali exhales heavily through her nose, typing out her answer, once again, four times before sending it.

_  
I’m not doing anything fun. _

  
She presses send and then types out the second message.

_  
But if you were here, I bet I would be. _

  
Ali can almost picture the way Ashlyn’s eyebrows will shoot up. If she gets it that is. Ashlyn starts to type more than once, and Ali has to scroll through twitter to stop looking at the appearing and disappearing texting bubble in her messages. When she finally does get the notification, she almost considers not looking at it. But she does, she always does.

_  
Oh yeah? Tell me more about what you’d have planned. _

\--

“Fuck!” Ashlyn shouts a little too loud, bouncing on the balls of her feet as yet another lob gets past her at practice.

  
“You’re okay?” Alyssa asks, as Ashlyn tries to calm herself down before the next ball comes her way.

  
“I’m okay,” Ashlyn breathes.  
  


They’re in New Jersey, the friendly is one day out, and Ashlyn is distracted. Not in a  _ bad  _ way, per se, but not in a particularly good way either. It’s much more difficult to text someone casually when there’s a three hour time difference, and every now and then Ashlyn catches herself wondering if Ali’s answered her while she’s practicing.    
  


Ali is accommodating about practice and the time difference, she seems to be free most of the time, but it still isn’t easy for Ashlyn to seem like she’s not jumping every time Ali answers her. She’s had to turn her text notifications off because Ali will text Ashlyn at three AM eastern just to talk, when Ashlyn should be long asleep. And when it gets later, Ali’s texts are provocative enough to wake Ashlyn up fully, with little to no hope of falling back asleep.

  
Ashlyn knows she should be shutting it down – not because she doesn’t feel the same way (if Ali is also feeling emotionally attached and also a little turned on), but because it’s taking her out of the game. Alex and Kelley can tell that it’s distracting her, and Alyssa can too. Ashlyn can only hope that Jill can’t.

  
After practice, when Ashlyn feels like she’s sufficiently gotten her shit together and the field players have long left the pitch, she makes her way to the locker room with Alyssa.

“Are these shitty practices really about a girl?” Alyssa asks, getting unusually personal. “Aren’t you the one who’s detached most of the time? Heartbreaker and all that?”

  
Ashlyn shrugs. “I guess so.”

  
“Is she playing hard to get or…?”

  
“Not at all. Alex and Kelley just think I shouldn’t be doing the dating thing at the beginning of the tournament so I’m always trying to figure out how to talk to her without encouraging her.”

  
“But do you want to?”

  
“Want to what?”

  
“Encourage her.”

  
“Yeah,” Ashlyn sighs, tugging her shirt over her head.

  
“Is she still in California?” Alyssa asks, barely audible with her body turned into her locker.

  
“Yeah but she lives in Virginia.”

  
“The author, right?”  
  


Ashlyn feels her cheeks turning red. Sometimes she forgets that word spreads so quickly, even to people she doesn’t spend every waking second with. “Yeah, the author.”

 

“She probably has enough money to get to Canada,” Alyssa says simply, logical to a fault. “Maybe she could book a signing in Montreal or something.”

 

“That’s not the point,” Ashlyn replies. “Is she coming to Canada as my friend or as my… whatever.”

  
“If she books a signing she can come as someone there on business. Why do you even need to sort that out yet?” Alyssa asks. “Just, like, hang out with her. And let whatever happens happen.”

  
“Are you serious?”

  
“If she watches us she knows what a big deal this is. She’s not going to mess with it because she wants you to be her girlfriend. She’ll be patient.”

  
Alyssa leaves the locker room first, mostly because Ashlyn is lost in thought, even though she knows she’s being a little dramatic. But she forms a plan as she showers, and lays the conversation out in her head as she dresses to go home.

\--

Ashlyn calls to Skype at 6PM Pacific, 9PM Eastern. Ali is cooking, but she turns the stove off to answer her call, setting her iPad down on the counter in front of her. When Ashlyn’s face fills the screen, she’s grinning already, and Ali swipes the strands of hair falling onto her forehead away. Ashlyn’s in the hotel room with one headphone in her ear. There’s not enough room for Ali to see around Ashlyn’s body in the screen and see if Alex is there, but she can’t hear anyone moving around.

  
“Hey you!” Ashlyn exclaims, too loud into the microphone on her headphones.

  
“Hi,” Ali replies, grinning. “How’s everything?”

  
“Everything is good!”

  
“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“Of course!” Ashlyn says, laughing. “I’m excited any time we get to get out of fucking practice and do something interesting. Are you going to watch?”

  
“I wouldn’t miss it. Are you all alone? I thought you’d have something to do tonight.”

  
“Oh, yeah. Some of the gals are watching a movie but I wanted to talk to you first. Are you cooking?” Ashlyn asks, trying to look over Ali’s shoulder. Ali scoots to the side, showing her the pans sizzling on the stove and grinning. “Looks really good.”

  
“Smells even better,” Ali replies, grinning with her tongue between her teeth.

  
“So I was thinking,” Ashlyn says, clearing her throat. “About you coming to Canada.”

  
“Oh yeah?” Ali says, raising an eyebrow. “Me too. I was just looking at tickets today.”

  
“Well I was thinking. We’re going to be going across Canada, right?”

  
“Right.”

  
“A whole bunch of cities. Who knows where we’ll be after the group stages, right?”

  
“Yeah,” Ali says, obviously confused.

  
“So what if you did a book tour?”

  
“A book tour?” Ali replies, laughing.

  
“Yeah,” Ashlyn says, shrugging. “Like in the different cities. That way you could come see the games and make some money or something.”

  
“Ash,” Ali says, running her hand through her hair.

  
“You don’t have to but I know you wanted to come and I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  
“Book tours take months to put together,” Ali laughs. “We would need to book bookstores and put deposits down on venues and sell tickets. Liz would kill me.”

  
“I just don’t want to majorly inconvenience you by making you take a chunk out of your life to come and see us in Canada,” Ashlyn says softly, looking at her fingers. “That way you could come to all the games but still be doing your thing.”

  
“Ash I’m going to come to see you,” Ali replies, simply. “I want to see you play in this tournament. Really bad. I’ve been looking at plane tickets. I don’t need… I’ve got enough money to come see you and not have to work while I’m there.”

  
“Just to see me?” Ashlyn says, her grin lopsided.

  
“I mean I want to see all of you,” Ali says, beck-pedaling, despite Ashlyn guessing exactly what she means. “But I especially want to see you.”

  
“Right definitely,” Ashlyn replies, nodding and clearing her throat. “We need all the support we can get.”

  
“Exactly. So maybe I’ll call a bookstore in whatever city I go to and book something. But I don’t need to book a whole thing for this. It was a cute idea, though. You’re very cute.”

  
“That’s what I aim for,” Ashlyn replies, laughing and running her fingers through her hair. “So you’re going to watch tomorrow? On TV?”

  
“Yeah,” Ali replies. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  
“Tell me what you think, tell me how you think we’re going to do,” Ashlyn says.

  
“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  
Ashlyn exhales hard through her nose. “I hope so. I’m nervous.”

  
Ali shifts on the balls of her feet, biting her bottom lip before speaking. Ashlyn is cute when she’s nervous, but there’s also something about the way that Ashlyn is leaning over the desk in the hotel room, toying with the position of her headphones in her ear, elbows resting on the desk, showing off the muscles in her arms, even if it’s unintentional (doubtful), that makes heat pool in Ali’s stomach.

  
“Can I… do anything to help you feel better?”

  
Ashlyn raises her eyebrows and tilts her head, eyes going wide when she figures out what Ali means.

  
“Aren’t you cooking?”

“I can turn the stove off, Ash,” Ali laughs, before lowering her voice. “Or you can hang up.”

  
“Hang up? Why would I do that right now?”

  
“You can hang up,” Ali breathes. “And text me.”

  
“Text you.”

“I don’t want Alex to come back and walk into something… awkward,” Ali says, trying to keep her tone confident. Talking about sex out loud is hard, especially with someone you haven’t even kissed yet. Someone you took a risk with sending something cheeky and now look forward to… sexting, if you can call it that, every night.

  
“I can do that,” Ashlyn replies, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

  
“Good,” Ali replies, biting her lip again and not missing the way Ashlyn’s eyes drift to watch her.

  
“It’d be better if you were here though. Take out the middle man.”

  
“Make it up to me in Canada.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Glad you're enjoying it. What do you think? What's coming (besides the A team)? All my love.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumps in the road!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE BACK

“We’re scratching you tonight,” Jill says to Ashlyn after the team meeting on game day. Ashlyn raises one eyebrow.

  
“This is our last game before the World Cup,” Ashlyn says, trying to keep from sounding disrespectful. “Why would you scratch your starting keeper?”

  
“How’s your wrist feeling?”

Ashlyn shrugs. “It’s fine.”  
  


She had to get surgery a few months earlier – fairly minor, but she had to rush rehabilitation to pick up the first string goalkeeping spot. Her wrist had been bothering her earlier in the week, but she had just taped it up extra, and that seemed to fix the problem. And she had been careful not to favor a particular side in practice to keep this exact situation from arising.  
  


“Graeme mentioned seeing your nursing it the other day and favoring your other arm. So tonight we’re just going to bench you while make sure you’re okay to play in the tournament.”  
  


Ashlyn tries to suppress a groan. Any game benched is a game too many.

  
“Would you rather we play you tonight and hurt your wrist again?” Jill says, stern.

  
“No.”

  
“Would you rather hurt yourself and be unable to help your team win?”

  
“No,” Ashlyn replies, feeling scolded and looking down at her feet.

  
“So go talk to Graeme, let’s figure out what’s going on with you before we put you back in a game situation.”

  
Ashlyn nods, reaching into her sweatpants for her phone. She’s got a missed call and voicemail from Ali, and as she heads towards the conference room where the medical staff is set up, she holds her phone to her ear.

  
“Hey Ash, just wanted to wish you luck today! I forgot you might be in a meeting or something. I’ll try to catch you again later.”

  
She reluctantly cracks a smile as she tucks her phone back into her pants pocket, striding into the conference room and meeting eyes with Graeme, the bald goalkeeping coach.

  
“Is this really about my wrist?”

  
Graeme shrugs. “Most of it is. I don’t care that much about your love life, Ash. But if it’s not sorted out you’re not going to play well. And Alyssa expressed some concerns, and you and I both know how you’ve looked the last few days. Be happy I didn’t mention my misgivings about your personal life instead of about your wrist. You know how Jill is about that.”

  
Ashlyn chews on her bottom lip and reluctantly nods.

  
“So you have time now to get your act together with this stuff. I’d try to figure it out soon, though,” Graeme says. “And I’m not saying you need to be, like, a recluse or a hermit but. Starting a relationship takes a lot of work and so does your job. And for the next few months, your job needs to be more important than anything else – you know we’ve talked about that. Jill has talked about that. I’m sure your teammates have said the same thing I’m saying right now. Otherwise I’m not sure if you’re in the right job.”

  
Ashlyn sighs, running her hand through her hair. “I’ll take care of it.”

  
Graeme nods. “Ice your wrist while you do.”

  
When Ashlyn leaves the conference room, she fires a text to Ali.

_  
Are you busy? _

  
Ali replies quickly.

_  
Just packing! _

  
Ashlyn tugs on her ear, her thumb ghosting over the keyboard as she contemplates saying what she needs to say in a text before deciding against it.

_  
Can we talk? _

  
Ali calls her within 10 seconds, and Ashlyn’s stomach knots when she picks up.

  
“Hey.”

  
“Is everything okay?”  
  


Ashlyn looks around the hallway of the floor, checking for errant fans, before speaking again.

  
“I have to say something really important and I just need you to listen to me while I say it if that’s okay.”

  
“Okay,” Ali says slowly.

  
“I can’t do… this right now,” Ashlyn says, a lump rising in her throat. “I can’t start something with you before this tournament. It’s distracting to think about you all the time and I’m afraid it’s going to take away from my game. And I should be able to put it aside when I play but I’m worried I won’t be able to. There’s something about you and I can’t stop thinking about you. So we need to stop doing this before I end up screwing up the World Cup for everyone.”

  
“Ash, you can’t put the weight of the World Cup on your own shoulders,” Ali says softly.

  
“This isn’t about me and how I get myself to perform,” Ashlyn replies, her voice sharper than it meant to be.

  
“It’s about you being afraid I’m going to make you screw up.”

  
“Right,” Ashlyn replies, cringing at her own abruptness and the hurt in Ali’s voice. It’s not true, of course. She doesn’t actually think that Ali will keep her from playing well. But it seems like everyone around her does and right now, that’s enough.

  
“Are you sure?” Ali’s voice hasn’t broken, it doesn’t sound like a plea. It’s an honest question, something Ashlyn appreciates. 

  
“Al,” Ash starts, almost reneging before swallowing hard and sticking to her guns. “Yeah. I like… I love talking to you and I loved spending time with you. But I can’t be starting something like  _ this  _ right now. My coaches have noticed. That's a big deal.”

  
“Okay,” Ali says, her voice soft. “Good luck tonight. And in Canada. I’ll be watching”

  
“Yeah,” Ashlyn says quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Thanks. Enjoy.”   
  


\--   


Ali doesn’t cry. She wants to but she doesn’t. If Ashlyn could be methodical and firm about ending things, Ali could be the same. Instead, she invites Liz over for dinner with her and Kyle for her last night before going home.

  
“Are you still going to watch?” Liz asks from the kitchen that evening, before Ali’s last night in LA.

  
“Watch what?” Ali replies, listening to the sound of Liz getting herself, Kyle, and Ali water before heading back into the living room.

  
“The game.”  
  


Ali picks at her cuticles, mostly just to avoid her brother and best friend’s eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  
“I mean,” Kyle starts, but Ali holds up one hand to stop him.

  
“I’m not going to let one person on a team that I’ve watched for like five years ruin this game. Anyway I doubt South Korea will get any shots off. I probably won’t even have to see her, the camera doesn’t pan to the goal when the ball isn’t there.”

  
“But is it going to make you upset that she’s there? Or that you could see her?” Liz says, trying to keep her tone even. “What if South Korea is suddenly really good?”

  
“If South Korea is beating us, I have other things to be upset about,” Ali laughs. “I’ll be fine.”

  
But it turns out Ali doesn’t even need to worry about the camera. Ashlyn doesn’t get the start.

  
The starting XI comes out while they’re eating dinner, the channel the game is on playing low in the background as they talk about the things Ali needs to pack before heading back to Virginia. Ali stops speaking mid-sentence, her eyebrows raised as she reads the eleven players starting the game.

  
“Ashlyn isn’t starting,” she says, failing to keep the concern out of her voice.

  
“That’s good,” Kyle says matter of factly.

  
“Good for me, maybe,” Ali sighs. “But why wouldn’t she play the last game before the World Cup? Do you think she’s hurt?”  
  


“I’m sure she’s fine,” Liz says simply. “Don’t worry too much about it. Maybe they’ll say something about it on TV tonight.”

  
Ali reaches for her phone, which Kyle slaps his hand over before she can get to it.  
  


“What are you doing?”  
  


“I was going to check Twitter and see if there’s anything about it,” Ali lies.  
  


“Were you going to text her?”   
  


“No,” Ali says, before letting out a resigned sigh. “I was going to DM Ann. I just… want to make sure nothing happened in training or anything.”  
  


“Are there any lineup notes?” Kyle says, picking up Ali’s phone. “Maybe it’ll be explained there.”  
  


Sure enough, on the official press release for the game, there’s a note from US Soccer.  
  


_ Megan Rapinoe, Alex Morgan, and Ashlyn Harris have all been scratched as a precautionary measure. _

  
“See?” Kyle says. “Precautionary.”  
  


When Ali gets her phone back she hesitates for a second before sending out a tweet.  
  


_ Good luck tonight, @ussoccer_wnt!! I’ll be watching from home!  _   
  


That night, the camera pans to Ashlyn on the bench once, in a neon orange pinny, legs crossed and face in her hands. Her hands and wrists aren’t taped and she’s wearing sneakers instead of boots.  
  


“You have to wonder why the starting keeper would be benched the game before World Cup. Especially such a new starting keeper thrust into this pace of play so quickly,” one commentator says. “Maybe there’s a goalkeeping shakeup in the works.” Ali gets up to get herself a glass of water.

\--

Sitting on the bench is agony. It’s not that she’s not happy for Alyssa getting the start, she is. But Ashlyn has done this too many times before, shifting back and forth on the bench and warming up even though she knows she won’t play. She knows that in Jill’s mind, this is precautionary. But she also knows - and she knows Alyssa and Graeme both know - that if Ashlyn can’t get her head on straight, she’ll end up benched for Alyssa by the year’s end.  
  


Alyssa plays well, stopping all 3 of South Korea’s shots with ease. The rest of the team isn’t able to score, and Ashlyn finds herself wanting to scream directions when play stops, resolving instead to bury her face in her hands and try to crack her back.   
  


When the game is over, the girls who played are understandably frustrated, with one defender calling the backline “Swiss cheese” in the postgame huddle. Ashlyn traipses back to the locker room, pulling her phone from her locker as she tugs her unused jersey over her head and starts to change into what she’ll wear at the extra practice for bench players. There’s 9 days before their first match, and two days of traveling in between. With Ali out of the picture, Ashlyn has no reason not to be starting the first match.  
  


When she steps into the net for the extra practice, Graeme approaches her before starting.   
  


“So did you figure it out?”  
  


Ashlyn nods in the affirmative, not willing to give him any information as a reward for being nosy. But he persists, tossing a ball between his hands. “What did you end up doing?”  
  


“I just told her now wasn’t the time,” Ashlyn sighs, focused intensely on the velcro of her gloves instead of her goalkeeping coach’s face. “And we should talk about it when the tournament is over.”   
  


Graeme nods, accepting the answer as the rest of the bench players filter onto the practice field.  
  


Ashlyn gets back to the hotel after the starters have already wrapped up their nights, so she barges in while Alex is on the phone with Servando, Kelley sitting cross legged on her bed, probably texting Ann.   
  


“Good job tonight,” Ashlyn says as she tosses her bag to the foot of the bed, grabbing her pajamas and heading for the shower for what might be the third time today.   
  


“Could’ve been better,” Kelley responds noncommittally. “Missed having you behind us.”  
  


“It’s good though, you know? For Alyssa to get capped. Canada’s backups have more than the two of us did combined before, you know,” Ashlyn says, clearing her throat. “Are you still going to be here when I’m out of the shower?”   
  


“Depends on how long your shower is,” Kelley says with a laugh. “But probably. I’m waiting for Alex to get off the phone with Serv and you know how long she usually takes.”  
  


“Cool,” Ashlyn says, shifting back and forth on her heels as she stands in the doorway of the bathroom. “I broke things off with Ali.”   
  


Alex’s head whips around, and she holds up one finger before telling Serv to hold on.  
  


“You what?”  
  


“Yeah I told her we had to press pause. Because of the World Cup,” Ashlyn sighs. “Can I shower though? Just give me fifteen minutes.”   
  


Ashlyn showers as quickly as she can, tossing her hair into a towel and pulling on her sweatpants and t-shirt before taking a deep breath and heading back into the room. Alex and Kelley were obviously talking about her, because they shut up as soon as she re-enters the room, tossing her clothes in a laundry bag.  
  


“So,” Ashlyn says, crossing her legs as she sits on her bed.  
  


“So why today?” Alex asks, always to the point.  
  


“This morning Jill told me she was benching me because Graeme said something about my wrist,” Ashlyn starts, subconsciously wrapping her thumb and index finger around the wrist she hurt.  
  


Kelley raises her eyebrows. “But you were just talking the other day about how it hasn’t bothered you in, like, weeks.”  
  


“Exactly,” Ashlyn replies. “So I went to see Graeme and called him on his shit, and he said he thought that my personal shit was getting in the way of my ability to play. And if it hadn’t yet, it would soon.”  
  


“He’s so nosy!” Alex exclaims. “I know I’ve been saying the same thing but, like, at least the two of us are friends.”  
  


Ashlyn laughs. “So I called her and just kind of broke it off, you know? We’ve been too busy for me to miss her yet but I have a feeling that’s coming.”  
  


“Well,” Kelley says, standing. “If you need somebody to talk to we’re always around. Maybe this was the right call.”  
  


“I didn’t really have a choice,” Ashlyn sighs. “It was either that or get benched. And I obviously care more about this than that.”  
  


Kelley sighs, opening her mouth a few times to say something before Alex talks over her.  
  


“I think you made the right decision,” Alex says matter of factly. “She’ll still be here when you get back.”   
  


“Yeah,” Ashlyn replies, trying to keep from sounding mopey. “At least I hope so.”  
  


Kelley bounces off the bed, clearly still bothered but trying to sound chipper. “Well if she won’t fuck you when you’re a World Cup Champion, she probably isn’t worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, sorry for the wait!! Let me know your thoughts/feelings/emotions in the comments!! What's coming next?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali mourns, Ashlyn stresses, and someone takes a risk.

Watching the World Cup is hard. For a couple of reasons. Ali finds herself, cross-legged on her  couch in Virginia with her hands over her face, peeking between her fingers as the minutes tick by.

 

It’s not because she’s heartbroken, it’s not because whenever she tweets good luck to the team, she gets likes from everyone she met except Ashlyn. It’s not because it’s hard to watch Ashlyn bouncing on the balls of her feet in goal, or because it’s hard to see her grinning in the starting XI and talking to her back line. It’s not because she looks cute rolling the sleeves of her kit up and drinking water with her gloves on. It’s not because every time they win a game, Ali types out a text to Ashlyn congratulating her on yet another shut out and then erases it. It’s definitely not because Ali had hoped to be at a few of the games, wearing a Harris jersey and cheering her on.

 

Well, maybe it is a little bit.

 

But it’s also because the team isn’t playing particularly  _ well _ . With a critical eye, which is easy to have when they’re in the half far away from Ashlyn pacing in the goal, Ali can tell that the team isn’t as sharp as they need to be.

 

She livetweets, because it’s apparently part of her brand now, and pointedly ignores questions about Ashlyn.  Sometimes Kelley will favorite her tweets after the fact, sometimes Alex will too. US Soccer has retweeted her a couple times, leaving Ali wondering if they’re oblivious to the circumstances. Tobin is definitely oblivious, usually replying to her when Ali mentions her directly. Ali checks at least once a day, but Ashlyn hasn’t unfollowed her yet. She can’t bring herself to make the first move.

 

In the first knock out game, the round of 16, Lauren Holiday gets her second yellow card of the tournament seventeen minutes in. Ali’s jaw nearly drops to the floor, knowing that the second card means that she’s out for the next game. Ali fires off a tweet as quick as she can. When Pinoe gets her second yellow card before the end of the game, Ali’s fists are clenched, short nails digging into her palms.

 

_ @AlexBKrieger: So……  what do we do now? _

 

They’re able to eek out a win over Columbia - 2-0 despite the yellow cards. When the game is over, Ali settles back on the couch, listening to the post-game commentary without really hearing anything, looking at the blank screen of her computer, trying to come up with some motivation to write  _ something _ . When she turns the TV off, resolving to go to bed, she checks her phone and has a DM from Ann.

 

_ Hey you!! _

 

Ali raises her eyebrows before responding. 

 

_ Hey! _

 

Ann is quick, quicker than Ashlyn ever is. Maybe because it’s late at night. 

 

_ So Ash mentioned a few weeks ago that you were thinking about going up for a game, right? _

 

_ Right, I was going to go to see them play in Montreal. _

 

_ Oh the semi-final, how ambitious! _ __   
  


_ That’s why I haven’t bought my ticket yet.... _

 

Ali adds the emoji of the monkey covering its mouth for good measure.

 

_ Well, that’s the game I was planning to head up to. When do you get in? I’ll have Kel make sure you get a room in our hotel. _

 

Ali hesitates to respond, thinking for a second before typing out a noncommittal answer. If Ashlyn hasn’t told Kelley, or Kelley hasn’t told Ann, there’s bound to be a reason.

 

_ I actually wasn’t sure if I would actually be able to make it up there. Work is getting a little busy and I don’t want to be there but not actually present, you know? _

 

_ That’s a bullshit excuse!! When’s the next time there will be a tournament that’s close enough for us to go without selling an arm and a leg? _

 

She laughs out loud when she reads this, knowing that at the end of the day, Ann is right. Before she can answer, Ann writes again.

 

_ I’ll make sure Kelley and Ashlyn have our tickets ready. I’m flying in the day before the game. They’ve been pretty in the zone since they’ve been up there, so I don’t know if we’ll be able to see them before the game, but you can hang out with me and the other family :) Let me know when you book your flight! _

\--

Ashlyn misses Ali too, at least when she has time to. Between the travel and the workouts and the recovery and the actual games, there’s barely enough time to answer texts from her family, let alone pine over someone she never kissed but managed to get off once or twice. But she manages, if only in the abstract, to get caught up before she goes to bed at night thinking about what Ali might say if she had seen the save Ashlyn made. 

 

She scrolls through Ali’s twitter, mostly because it’s good to hear game commentary from someone who’s an unabashed fan, not a newscaster attempting to be neutral. Ali pointedly avoids mentioning her, but every now and then there will be a tweet that says something like  _ What a save!!  _ that Ashlyn knows is meant for her.

 

On the flight from Ottowa to Montreal, Kelley is giddy, unable to keep her excitement to herself. Now that the team is getting close to the end, to what they missed by an inch four years ago, people are starting to feel comfortable letting their families come to matches. Kelley’s got her sister, parents, and, of course, Ann coming to the semi-final match. Ashlyn hasn’t invited anyone. Not because she doesn’t want them, but because she’s so afraid they’ll choke that she doesn’t want her friends - many of whom are cash strapped - to pay for something she won’t even play in. The night before, talking to Jamie on the phone, she promised that the moment the final whistle blew he could buy tickets to the final.

 

“Ann is coming in tomorrow morning,” Kelley says, leaning over the top of her seat to talk to Ashlyn. 

 

“I know,” Ashlyn replies, tugging her headphones off her ears. “Are you excited?” 

 

“I mean, it’s not like we’re going to get to do anything  _ fun _ but I miss her.”

 

“Why, because you can only sneak away to have phone sex every other night?” Tobin says, rolling her eyes.

 

“Don’t be gross!” Ashlyn wrinkles her nose. “I’m glad you’ll get to see her.”

 

“When’s your family coming up?” Tobin asks.

 

“When the whistle blows and we’re officially going to the final,” Ashlyn laughs. “Nobody’s coming before that. I figure there’s no better game to come see than the big one.”

  
"I just hope they're not bad luck," Carli pipes from behind them, and Ashlyn tries not to roll her eyes. "My family is bad luck and I'm glad I found out at a friendly, not in the semi-final of the World Cup."  
  
Ashlyn swallows a retort, knowing Carli gets like this when she's stressed - and she's stressed.

When they touch down, Kelley is counting the minutes until Ann’s flight lands, checking her phone compulsively to the point that she almost walks into closed elevator doors. When Ann finally does land, a few hours before the rest of her family, Kelley bolts from where she’s hanging out with Alex and Ashlyn to meet her girlfriend. 

 

Ashlyn is almost jealous of Kelley having a significant other. And Alex. And A-rod. And Syd and JJ and Moe and probably three quarters of the team. She’s almost jealous of them having a piece of home come visit. A piece of home they get to make out with.

\--

Ali ends up flying into Montreal the morning of June 25, with only a carry on and a purse, ready to go see a game in the friends and family section for a team she’s neither friends nor family of. She’s staying in the same hotel as the team, a few floors down, sharing a room that Ann booked. Ali used the excuse that she wanted to surprise Ashlyn as a way to prevent what is bound to be unnecessary drama. Ann promises to keep her arrival under wraps, even from Kelley, and Ali vows to herself that she won’t actually  _ see  _ Ashlyn, she’ll just watch the game and be on her way home.

 

Ann waits for her at the airport, landing about half an hour before Ali does. When Ali meets her at the luggage terminal, Ann hugs her like nothing is wrong.

 

“Are you ready? Things are about to move really fast,” Ann says when she pulls away, grinning. “Kell says the hotel lobby is crazy.”

 

Ali nods. “I’m ready.”

 

They take an Uber, which Ali insists on paying for, to the hotel, and Kelley was right.

 

“How do they find out where the team is staying?” Ali asks, her voice low in the lobby overflowing with people in National Team jerseys.

 

“Usually it’s trial and error. Or the see the bus,” Ann laughs, checking them in. “But the team books a full floor so no one gets to where they’re staying without the right credentials.”

 

When the receptionist passes the keys over to her, and Ann thanks her profusely, she double checks to make sure no one follows them into the elevator before pressing their floor’s button.

 

“I’ll text Kell, she can come see us as soon as we put our stuff down. You don’t want her to bring Ashlyn, do you?”

 

Ali looks up, locking eyes with Ann, whose smile is small. “I kind of figured the two of you weren’t seeing each other anymore.”

 

“How?” 

 

“Considering you guys went from 100 to 0 online, and Kelley stopped talking about you coming, I assumed something happened.”

 

“Ash kind of decided she didn’t want it anymore. She thought I was distracting her.”   
  


Ann rolls her eyes. “She’s a drama queen.”   
  


“I guess she had a point, imagine doing all this,” Ali says, gesturing towards the window. “But also having to worry about dating someone.”   
  


“Kelley and I are doing it just fine,” Ann says. “But we’ve also been doing it forever.”   
  


“Exactly.”   
  


“But you’re obviously here,” Ann says. “So you obviously want to see her.”   
  


Ali opens her mouth to respond, but is interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.   
  


“We’re going to talk about this later,” Ann says, holding up one finger as she bounces off the bed and to the door, throwing it open to a beaming Kelley.   
  


It almost feels like Ali’s interrupting something, so she buries herself in her phone when Ann buries her face in Kelley’s shoulder. She can hear them kiss once, twice, before clearing her throat and standing, beginning to rummage through her bag. They break apart quickly and Kelley turns red.   
  


“I’m just going to change and then I’ll go for a walk or something,” Ali says, laughing. “I don’t want to interrupt your… this.”   
  


“No, no, it’s fine,” Kelley exclaims, splitting from Ann to hug Ali. “I’m so happy you came! We’re – you don’t have to go anywhere. I know you’ve been traveling all day and probably just want to relax.”   
  


“Yeah but I don’t want to keep you guys from… enjoying each other,” Ali says, trying to keep her face from turning red.   
  


“Don’t worry about that at all!” Kelley exclaims.   
  


“But-”   
  


“We’re on a sex hiatus until the World Cup is over,” Ann finally says. “Like we haven’t – aren’t. Doing anything. So you leaving would honestly just make it worse.”

 

Ali wrinkles her nose. “That’s unfortunate.”   
  


“You’re telling me,” Kelley says, rolling her eyes, and Ann shrugs, faux-apologetic.   
  


“I’m so happy you guys are here,” Kelley says again, absolutely beaming, before checking her watch. “I should really get upstairs; we’ve got a meeting. But I’ll see you at dinner, right?”   
  


“Dinner?” Ali asks, raising an eyebrow.   
  


“Oh, yeah,” Ann says. “Just with some of the people who are coming tomorrow – family and friends and stuff.”   
  


“I don’t want to intrude,” Ali starts, before Ann talks over her.   
  


“You won’t be, don’t worry. There’s going to be so many people there.”   
  


“But, Ashlyn.”

“She doesn’t know you’re here,” Kelley says simply. “She doesn’t think anybody is here for her so she probably won’t even come down. Don’t worry.”   
  


Ali sighs as Kelley pecks Ann on the cheek, giving her a quick “love you” before heading out, pulling the door shut behind her.   
  


“I really don’t want this to be weird,” Ali says, now searching her bag to find something to wear with the friends and family of relative strangers.   
  


“It won’t be,” Ann says. “Relax. Now do you want to shower first or can I?”   
  


“Go ahead,” Ali says, collapsing on her bed.   
  


When she hears the shower start running, she calls Kyle, international rates be damned. He picks up after two rings, probably because she didn’t tell him she was calling first.   
  


“What’s wrong?” he says immediately.   
  


“Nothing,” Ali laughs. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I was calling first. But guess where I am?”   
  


“Outside my house?” he says.   
  


“No.”   
  


“Thank God.”   
  


“Rude,” Ali exclaims, keeping her voice down despite knowing Ann can’t hear her.   
  


“But where are you?”   
  


“I’m in Montreal. For the World Cup semi.”   
  


“With… who? By yourself?” Kyle asks, incredulous.   
  


“I’m actually here with Ann. She kind of strong armed me.”   
  


“Doubtful,” Kyle replies, practically singing. “Are you seeing Ashlyn?”

“I mean, I’m going to see her play tomorrow. But probably not in person, you know?”   
  


“Right,” he says, not even hiding the derision in his voice. “Well be careful. Have fun, but not too much.”   
  


“Never. Love you.”   
  


“You too.”


	10. Chapter 10

There’s not much time to  _ see  _ or  _ do  _ anything, and between showering and changing and watching Ann run through five outfits before deciding on one (not the one that Ali recommends), Ali barely has enough time to get dressed and do her makeup before they’re out the door. She ends up wearing the least wrinkled flannel she can find in her suitcase, tossing it to Ann as she gets in the shower to be ironed. heading for a restaurant about a mile from the hotel, as far from the stadium as they could reasonably get without it being inconvenient.

  
“So who’s going to be there?” Ali asks, chewing her bottom lip on the Uber there.

  
“I know Dom is coming, Syd’s husband. Serv probably is too. Sarah, Abby’s wife, not to be confused with Sera, Pinoe’s girlfriend. Cheney’s husband, Jrue. And I’m sure A-Rod’s family is coming too but she might be spending time with them privately.”

  
“Right, because she has a kid.”

  
“Right. And I don’t think Carli’s family is even  _ here  _ but we’ll see.”

  
“Why wouldn’t her family be here?”

  
“She thinks they’re bad luck,” Ann laughs.

  
“No she doesn’t,” Ali replies, incredulous. Ann nods solemnly.

  
“Brian hasn’t come to one game. Carli calls him, but I don’t even think he’s up. That’s what Kelley told me, at least.”

  
They’re not the first people to get there – in fact they’re damn close to the last. They’re led by the maître d to the back of the restaurant, an Italian place that Ali and Ann are most definitely underdressed for, to a small private room that’s jam packed. Maybe it’s because half the people that are there are professional athletes of some kind, all broad shouldered, but there’s barely enough room at the table for everyone. Ann has to muscle a couple people to get them seated, in chairs pressed against the wall. Ali prays there’s never a fire, because she doesn’t know how she’d get out of the cramped spot.

  
“Everybody,” she says, all but yelling to a room of people she’s obviously spent a lot of time with. “This is Ali Krieger. She’s Kelley’s friend. And a New York Times best-selling author.”

  
Ali waves, suddenly shy. Everyone is welcoming, and while she doesn’t remember most people’s names immediately after introductions, as she spends the night talking she learns at least who their partners are. Some of them have been traveling with the team since the group stages, some have only been traveling for the knock-out rounds. But considering that’s all she knows  _ really  _ well, she’s able to tell enough stories to keep the people at her end of the table entertained. When Dom asks how she met Kelley, Ali turns red.

  
“Well I actually met her through Ashlyn. Ashlyn read my book and then we met for lunch and that’s when I met Kelley and Tobin,” she says, and Dom’s eyes go wide with recognition.

  
“You’re  _ that  _ Ali, aren’t you!” he exclaims. “You could’ve just said you were Ashlyn’s girlfriend. I was wondering why Ann was bringing you to something for the partners.”

  
The breath Ann sucks through her teeth is audible even in the loud room, and Ali shrugs, trying to hide her embarrassment.

  
“I guess I just didn’t want to seem like I was on the same level as you guys because we saw – have been seeing each other for such a short period of time.”

  
Sera interrupts, and Ali wonders if she’s picked up on the annoyance, but she’s able to fade into the background, pulling out her phone once to shoot a text to Kyle and Liz.

_  
I’m at the dinner for SOs. This may have been a mistake. _

\--

“So you’re all going out tonight?” Ashlyn says in the room, freshly showered and in sweatpants. She was planning on watching a movie and going to bed super early, but the sight of her teammates put the finishing touches on their makeup in the mirror has her riled up. “I feel like there’s some club I’m not a part of.”

  
“Having a partner,” Kelley says, laughing. “That’s the club you’re not in, and you made that choice on your own.”

  
“I wouldn’t say it was a bad choice,” Alex replies, fastening her earring.

  
“And yet I don’t get to actually go out and spend time with my friends tonight because you’re having a couples only dinner.”

  
Kelley spins from the mirror, hands on her hips.

  
“No one’s actually stopping you from coming, you know. But if you come you can’t complain about being a 25 th wheel.”

  
“I’m not going to complain about being the 25 th wheel, believe it or not I sometimes like Ann and Serv better than I like you two.”

  
“If you want to go,” Tobin says, looking up from her phone. “I’ll go with you. Then we can 25 th and 26 th wheel.”

  
“If you two want to come, can you get ready quick? Syd isn’t going to wait for us.”

  
Ashlyn hops off the bed, the comfort of turning in early long forgotten as she pulls an Oxford from her bag and plugs in the iron from the closet.

  
“You have to  _ iron _ ?” Alex whines.

  
“I’m sorry that I’m not willing to look slovenly like that one,” Ashlyn says, jerking her chin towards Kelley in a t-shirt and jeans, who sticks her tongue out in reply. “I’ll meet you in the lobby if you’re going to be that impatient.”

  
She takes her time ironing, before getting dressed in the bathroom and mussing her hair. When she gets to the lobby, Kelley has taken on a completely different tone.

  
“I _ actually  _ don’t know if it’s a good idea if you come,” she says, shifting on her heels. Alex is tapping her foot, and Ashlyn is sure the Uber is already outside.

  
“We can split the ride if you don’t think everyone is going to fit,” Ashlyn laughs, pulling her phone from her pocket.

  
“It’s not… that. It’s just that I forgot to mention that Ann brought her friend with her.”

  
“Who’s her friend?” Ashlyn asks, raising an eyebrow before realizing. “No fucking way.”

  
“I forgot completely, but she’s going tonight and I promised her you weren’t going to be there,” Kelley says, talking too fast.

  
“What is she doing here in the first place?” Ashlyn says, working actively to keep her voice down.

  
“She wanted to see you play! She’s a fan of the team, not just you,” Kelley explains, clearly on the defensive. “Ann invited her.”

  
“Well that was a mistake.”

  
“So are you staying in or…?”

  
“I mean. What choice do I have?”

  
Kelley lets out a loud exhale. “Do you miss her?”

  
“Yeah but. I’m supposed to be focusing.”

  
“That focus is bullshit, you know how I feel about that. Alex is the only person on this earth, besides maybe Carli, who would advocate for something like that. If you miss her and you want to see her, just come with us. Don’t make it weird.”

  
“Don’t make it weird,” Ashlyn laughs, leading the way to the car. “On it.”

\--

They make it halfway through the main course (and a few glasses of wine) before Dom checks his phone and calls to the rest of the table that “the girls” are on their way in. The knot in Ali’s stomach tightens, despite Kelley and Ann’s reassurances that Ashlyn wouldn’t come. Kelley enters first, freshly showered and even more underdressed than Ali in jeans and a t-shirt. She almost pushes past the maître d when she spots Ann. When Ali stands to let Ann squeeze around her, Kelley grabs Ali’s arm.

  
“So I have to tell you something,” she breathes. “I know I told you that Ashlyn wasn’t coming but, like, all of us were coming so she piled in with us.”

  
“She’s here,” Ali replies, her face getting hot. “Maybe I can slip out before she comes in?”

  
“Don’t be an idiot,” Ann says. “You can face her, it’ll be fine.”

  
Ali shifts uncomfortably back and forth, glancing at the door. Sure enough, Ashlyn straggles in after all her teammates, looking lost at Tobin’s side with no partner to hug and kiss. She scans the room quickly before locking eyes with Ali. She moves quickly, silently except to give small waves, across the room before she’s there – right in front of Ali. Still just a little taller. Still slim. Still smelling like Old Spice.

  
“Hi,” she breathes, as quietly as she can in the loud room of people reuniting with their loved ones. “You’re here.”

  
“Did you eat?” Ali asks, looking at her hands.

  
“With the team earlier.”

  
“Do you want to talk?”

  
“We probably should,” Ashlyn says. “Let’s go outside?”

  
When Ali nods, Ashlyn makes a beeline - or as close as she can manage - towards the door. Ali follows suit, as close as she can. The night air in Montreal is warm, and Ashlyn is glad that they’re far enough from the hotel that no fans are around.

  
“Ali,” Ashlyn breathes, not meeting her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  
“Ann asked me to come,” Ali replies. “And I wanted to see a game.”

  
“But what are you doing  _ here _ ? With her and Dom and… everyone.”

 

“I didn’t know.”

  
“You didn’t think that something for everyone’s friends and families would be, like, personal? And maybe not for  _ you _ ?” Ashlyn tries to keep her voice down.

  
“I didn’t know that you would be here, Ashlyn,” Ali replies, not bothering to keep hers below a shout. “If I had I wouldn’t have come. I’m not here to distract you or make you uncomfortable or anything. I can go right now.”

  
She reaches for her phone, intending to call an uber as quickly as she can.

  
“Ali.”

  
“It’s fine,” Ali says, knowing she’s being dramatic. “I should have known this was a mistake, I should have known this wasn’t going to work.”

  
“No, Al,” Ashlyn says, grabbing Ali’s arm. “I don’t want you to ruin your night. Don’t go if it’ll ruin this for you.”

  
“I’m not the one trying to avoid stress,” Ali laughs, trying not to sound bitter. “If this is stressing you out or, like, messing up your  _ game _ , or whatever stupid reason you had to end things in the first place, just let me leave. I’ll fly out right after the game tomorrow and we can pretend this never happened. Is that what you want?”

  
Ashlyn pauses. She knows that the right answer – the answer that Graeme and Alex have been trying to make her give for weeks – is different from the answer she has.

  
“No.”

  
“What?”

  
“I don’t want you to go,” Ashlyn says, taking a deep breath. “The last few weeks have been shitty. At night I read your fucking Twitter just to see what you think after games. I’ve wanted to call you the whole time, I’ve wanted to know what’s going on in your life. And if you don’t want to see me that’s fine, I get it, but if you want to stay, I want you to stay. You were like my connection to the outside world, you kept me sane. And if you want to stay, you should stay.”

  
Ali looks at her, becoming intensely aware of the fact that Ashlyn’s still holding on to her wrist, before putting her phone away and leaning in, just enough for Ashlyn to pull her into one of the almost bone crushing hugs she got used to  _ before. _

  
“Of course I want to stay.”

  
“Did you miss me?” Ashlyn says, barely audible, speaking into Ali’s hair.

  
“Yes,” Ali replies, pulling away. “Can we just… if we’re not going to be something, if that’s not something you can do right now, can we just be friends? I really care about you and I want to support you. Here. Until all this is over.”

  
Ashlyn nods. “We can do that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that it's been so long since this fic was updated that almost every cited couple is broken up but like.
> 
> Whatever lmao hi


	11. Chapter 11

It’s easier being friends with Ali than Ashlyn remembers – probably because from the moment she met her she intended to  _ date  _ her. Going into it with friendly intentions takes the pressure off. The rest of the night, even though it’s a little awkward at first, goes smoothly, despite Ali’s hand resting on her thigh in the tight space they’re sharing at the restaurant. Ashlyn is able to convince herself it’s just because they’re  _ so  _ close, and there’s no damn room for her to put her hand anywhere else, but when Ali laughs she squeezes Ashlyn’s thigh and Ashlyn’s breath catches in her throat.

  
Alex doesn’t approve, it’s easy to tell that even from across the room. She’s curled into Servando for the most part, but when she gets up to introduce herself to Ali, her grin is the same as the fake grin she uses on the press.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Alex says, eyeing the way Ashlyn’s hand is hovering an inch from Ali’s back. “I’ve heard so much about you.”    
  


“Good things I hope,” Ali replies, and Ashlyn is sure she feels Ali shake.   
  


“For the most part.”

  
They share an Uber back together, and Ali catches her up privately on what’s gone on for the past month and a half. She’s still working hard on her book, she hates Virginia in the summer, she’s considering moving to Los Angeles full time. She watched every game on her couch with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine, and got more questions about Ashlyn on Twitter than anything else. Liz used to watch the games with her, but she stopped when she didn’t understand what was going on, despite Ali’s long explanations.

  
“All anybody on Twitter wanted to talk about was you,” Ali giggles behind her hand, as Ashlyn grins. “Even when the team was dominating up top, all anybody wanted to talk about was how good you looked.”

  
“I mean were they wrong?”

  
“Not at all,” Ali says, lower than she meant to.

  
Ashlyn grins, and it’s embarrassing for Ali, honestly, to not even be able to pretend she doesn’t think Ashlyn is beautiful.

 

“I’m proud of you, you know,” Ali says softly, not meant for the Uber driver to hear, just meant for Ashlyn. 

 

“Are you now?” 

 

“All of you, the whole team,” Ali backpedals. “It must be satisfying to see all of your hard work pay off.” 

 

“It is, but it hasn’t paid off all the way yet,” Ashlyn replies, almost defaulting into press-speak. “We’ve still got two games to go.” 

 

“Don’t do that.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Talk to me like I’m interviewing you,” Ali says, watching Ashlyn run her hand through her hair. “I really am proud of you, you don’t have to explain that away.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn says, clearing her throat as they pull up to the hotel. Ashlyn climbs out first, holding out her hand for Ali to take. Ashlyn signs autographs for three children on the way in, politely declining to take a picture because she doesn’t want to give their hotel away.

 

“So what do you usually do the day of the game?” Ali asks, as they enter the elevator. Ashlyn doesn’t press her floor number, and Ali is sure she won’t until she’s alone.

 

“The only game day ritual I have is coffee,” Ashlyn replies, shrugging as she eyes the numbers ticking up. “It takes my mind off things to find the best coffee shop I can. Locally, at least.” 

 

“That sounds nice. Do you go alone?”

 

“Depends on if anyone is awake when I am. Usually no but I have a feeling everyone’s staying out with their people a little later than usual tonight so I’ll probably be alone tomorrow.”

 

The elevator stops at Ali’s floor, and Ashlyn follows her off, watching silently as she pulls her room key from her purse.

 

“Making sure I get back okay?” Ali asks, when she stops in front of her door. 

 

“The streets of Montreal are dangerous,” Ashlyn laughs.

 

“Well,” Ali sighs. “I’m here and safe, job well done.”

 

Ashlyn smiles, and they stand there for a second, and Ali opens her mouth to ask her to come in before Ashlyn unceremoniously blurts, “Do you want to come with me tomorrow?”

 

“What time?” Ali asks, even though it doesn’t matter. “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow, there’s a pretty big soccer game I’m going to.”

Ashlyn rolls her eyes. “I was thinking around 10 but if you’re that busy I can just go alone.” 

 

“Ash I would love to come with you,” Ali says, grabbing Ashlyn’s bicep in an attempt to reassure her without being too touchy. She lets go, sliding her room key into the lock, and is about to ask Ashlyn to come in when she hears a thump and a yelp.

 

“ _ Shit! _ ” 

 

Ashlyn raises her eyebrows and pushes past Ali to come in. “Kelley is that you?” 

 

And sure enough it is. Ann is beet red, tugging the sheets of the bed to her chin, and Kelley’s on the floor, having fallen trying to get up quickly. They’re both decent  _ enough _ , but Ali’s sure if it had been a minute longer they’d have walked into something else entirely.

 

“What happened to the sex hiatus?” Ali asks, covering her mouth to keep from laughing.

 

“ _ I  _ thought you were going to be out later,” Kelley says, standing and brushing herself off before beginning the search for her pants. “I thought you two had some catching up to do and were going to end up staring into each other’s eyes all night.”

 

“I’m  _ so  _ sorry,” Ann says from the bed, her eyes following Kelley getting dressed. “I should’ve texted you and told you.” 

 

“It’s fine,” Ali says, as Ashlyn dissolves into a fit of laughter. “This is fine, this is why I was going to leave earlier and let you two do  _ this _ .” 

 

“No, no, we really weren’t planning to,” Ann says. “We really tried not to.”

 

“You’re gross,” Ashlyn says, as Kelley finally finishes getting dressed and runs to the bed to peck Ann on the cheek.

 

“Score a goal for me tomorrow!” Ann calls, as Kelley scampers towards the door with Ashlyn at her heels.

 

“Anything for you,” Kelley shouts from the hallway. Ashlyn groans, before turning to Ali from the doorway.

 

“The lobby, tomorrow morning, 10 sharp?”

 

“10 sharp.”

 

When Ashlyn pulls the door shut behind her, Ann doesn’t move from under the covers, but raises her eyebrows. 

 

“So you two have reconnected?”

 

“As friends,” Ali reassures her. “Nothing else crazy. I don’t want to be the reason they lose the World Cup.”

 

“You won’t curse them,” Ann laughs. “Superstitions don’t work. I tell Kel to score for me every game and she never does.”

 

\--

 

“So how’s that going?” Kelley asks, as they head towards the elevator. “Have you kissed and made up?”

 

“We’re going to be friends through the end of all this.”

 

“I guess it’s better than obsessively checking each other’s Twitters, right?”

 

Ashlyn sighs, pressing the button for the elevator. “Alex is going to be so mad. You should’ve seen the way she looked at Ali when they met. I thought Ali was going to pass out.” 

 

“I mean for all your talk of  _ bettering the team _ I thought maybe you wouldn’t be following her back to her room at the end of the night. At least not yet.”

 

The elevator arrives and they get in, fortunate enough that no one else is there. 

 

“I guess I just feel like I missed her and she’s here so I don’t want to be the person who ignores her because I’m so in my own head.”

 

“When are you going to see her next? After the game?”

 

“Tomorrow morning for coffee.”

 

“Do you need a chaperone again?” 

 

Ashlyn turns red, remembering the way she all but begged Tobin and Kelley to come with her the first time they met up - for fear of ruining a friendship before it even started.

 

“Maybe,” Ashlyn replies, thinking hard as they get off the elevator on their floor. Kelley is buried in her phone, probably texting Ann, as they pass Tobin - who’s crouched on the floor speaking quietly into the phone. Ashlyn mimes drinking coffee at her, before holding up ten fingers. Tobin understands without speaking and gives her a thumbs up.

 

\--

 

Ashlyn wakes up at 9:30 the next morning, praying not to wake Alex while brushing her teeth and getting dressed. She closes the door carefully as she leaves, fixing her hair (or shoving it under a beanie) in the mirror in the hallway while waiting for Tobin. Tobin, who - as laid back as she is - always manages to be on time, meets her in front of the elevators at ten, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

 

“Where are we going?” she yawns, as Ashlyn calls the elevator. 

 

“There’s a Starbucks downstairs but we could go for a walk.”

She presses the number for the lobby, and it stops on what she knows is Ali’s floor. When Ali climbs on, grinning, Ashlyn’s almost in awe of how put together she looks, despite how “early” it is. Her makeup is done, she looks neat and prepared and not at all like she tossed and turned all night with nerves. Ashlyn has to remind herself that she probably didn’t - because she isn’t playing one of the biggest games of her professional career tonight.

 

“I guess we don’t need to meet in the lobby then,” Ali exclaims, and Tobin raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly before responding.

 

“We were just talking about where to go,” she says, her voice trademark low and almost gravelly.  “We were thinking about just hitting the Starbucks in the lobby.” 

 

“Well I was doing some research last night,” Ali says, before her cheeks turn red and she looks at her feet. “In case you didn’t have time to.”

 

“What’d you find?” Ashlyn says, breaking her silence as they near the ground floor.

 

“Hoche Cafe is supposed to be really good. It’s a couple of blocks walking but it’s not that bad.”

 

“That’ll get our legs warm,” Tobin says, laughing as she exits the elevator. “Lead the way.”

 

Tobin talks to Ali more than Ashlyn does on the walk over, as Ashlyn tries to avert her eyes from the way Ali’s top shows off the muscles in her arms and her jeans look all but painted on. She misses a question as she’s so intent on focusing anywhere  _ but  _ Ali.

 

“Ash,” Ali says, loud enough for Ashlyn to know she’s repeating herself.

 

“What’s up?” Ashlyn replies, hoping Ali can’t see how wide her eyes are behind her sunglasses.

 

“I was just asking how everybody’s feeling,” Ali says. “What with the suspensions and everything.”

 

Ashlyn shrugs. “I’m not nervous. Anyone who comes off the bench is more than capable of making a difference. I trust anybody who comes out.”

 

Tobin nods. “Exactly.”

 

“How’s the book coming?” Ashlyn asks, trying to change the subject from the nerves of the impending game. “Any spoilers for the sequel?”

 

Ali shrugs, smirking as she spreads her hands wide and they approach the coffee shop. “If I told you, you wouldn’t read and I definitely need you to read.”

 

It’s quiet, since it’s still early. All three of them order and Ashlyn pays for all three of them - Tobin because Ashlyn forced her out and Ali because, well, she’s Ali, and they perch in a quiet corner.

 

“Being in Canada makes me want to learn French,” Tobin says, sipping her coffee. She’s blissfully oblivious to the way Ashlyn is trying to avoid brushing ankles with Ali, as though the slightest touch could shatter their tentative peace treaty.

 

“I tried when I was in college,” Ali replies, her eyes trained on the way Ashlyn twists the ring on her finger nervously. “It’s harder than German was for me, I’m not really sure why.”   
  


“I’ve heard the verbs are a nightmare,” Tobin says, before clearing her throat. “They speak a lot of French out west.”

 

“You find that out in Tinder?” Ashlyn finally says. Tobin blushes furiously, muttering as she drinks her coffee. 

 

Tobin mediates for much of the coffee date, holding the conversation when Ashlyn invariably stumbles over her own tongue or Ali can’t make eye contact. When she gets up to use the bathroom before they leave, Ashlyn gets up to go with her. Ali speaks before she thinks.

 

“Stay.”

 

Ashlyn starts, but sits back down. Tobin rushes to the bathroom, eager to leave them alone.

 

“Ash,” Ali says quietly, her hand snaking under the table to touch Ashlyn’s knee. “Last night I was thinking and I was talking to Ann. And I had a thought and she kind of liked it.”

 

“Oh?” Ashlyn’s stomach sinks, but she sits up straighter.

 

“What if… what if we don’t  _ try  _ to be anything yet? Like not friends or girlfriends or anything. Let me just.” She’s talking too fast and pauses to catch her breath. “Let me just come to your game and cheer you on and be supportive and when you win, we can figure all this out. I want to be here for you if you want me, which you obviously do. But I don’t want to confuse you or freak you out about anything. I never wanted to be a distraction, I never wanted to be anything that would make your life more difficult. So instead of asking what we are, we can just sort of  _ be  _ and when this is over we can address it.” 

 

Ashlyn breathes out heavily, crossing her arms across her chest.

 

“You put a lot of thought into that.”   
  


“I did,” Ali replies nervously. She tries not to reveal how long she stayed up, chewing Ann’s ear off with every option available to make things feel a little less weird. Ann’s conclusion was that they be  _ nothing  _ to avoid accidentally being the wrong version of  _ something. _ “It just feels like a safe bet to try not to be a part of any one category when there’s so much more important shit going on.”

 

There’s a beat of silence, before Ashlyn unfolds her arms, looking down at the tattoos on them as though she’s seeing them for the first time.

 

“And we can really just figure everything else out when this is over?”

 

“However long it takes,” Ali says confidently. “After the gold medal game.”

 

“Hopefully,” Ashlyn laughs. “But that sounds good.”   
  


Ali smiles. “Good. Now go win a World Cup.” 

\--

Ten days of just  _ being  _ later, ten days of unequivocal support and endless cups of coffee later, ten days of quiet, aching pining later, ten days of emotionally exhausting soccer later, they win. When the final whistle blows after the final, after Ashlyn allows her knees to buckle under her and the turf to burn as she’s enveloped in the sound of a stadium cheering, after she has a medal draped over her neck and bites her lip to keep from crying, she searches the stands. Her eyes skim through, recognizing family members of her teammates she’s met over the past four years. When she spots who she’s looking for, she runs as fast as her tired legs can carry her, scaling the wall the best she can, and with the help of her brother’s hands under her arms, clambers into the stands, pressed uncomfortably close to the woman in front of her.

 

“I’m going to kiss you,” she says, grinning at Ali’s eyes filled with tears. “People are going to see. And I’m going to use this prize money to take you on a real date. And I’m going to be a great girlfriend. Is that okay?”

 

Ali nods emphatically, her arms already around Ashlyn’s neck. When they kiss, Ashlyn can hear the cameras clicking from down below, but Ali’s hands threading in her hair - finally - is enough to make her forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote! Hope you guys enjoyed this, and I promise there is much more coming on other works.
> 
> All love.


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